cleveland

a pre-dawn metropolis.

driving through a four a.m. cleveland,
i feel as if i'm the smirk of the city.
it's as cold as a heartless f**k out there,
and sneeze-mist rain is infecting my windshield.

but inside my junkyard-car doors,
ben folds plays a ben folds tune
and i'm watching the streetlights instead of the road.
lake erie moseys past me like the future
while i think of my girl down south,
and i kiss the picture of her i keep in the pocket
somewhere between my right lung and my heart,
but i feel none of my favorite lips.

for now,
i guess,
i'll just dance with the dawn
on the fingertips of america.

Author's Note

Every word of this actually happened, except I didn't drive.

Reviews

[Blue Moon Ice Cream]

This seemed to have a bluesy feel. Never been to Cleveland, but I could imagine it clearly, even though you didn't actually describe the buildings or anything. I loved the last four lines. I was expecting something very glum, and then it was somewhat optimistic (ish)...

[Kenneth The Poet]

I too like Ben Folds...ever fought the battle of who could care less?

Great poem.