Ode to Downtown Houston

We sat on the  train and watched the city in motion at 40 miles per hour. Though so deserted at 10:00a.m., it was very full of life. Hope lies in the vacant buildings and go unnoticed like the vomit-esque  fumes of the streets of downtown. We don’t expect anything better but always hope for more than less.

The scene is still tainted from last year’s natural disaster; we never bothered to clean up.  You can’t turn around on these one way streets. Just keep driving until the light’s red and hope that in that pause you will figure out a way to escape the maze. Don’t bother wandering around in search of something to do, for the city doesn’t exist until night.  

If you listen closely, you can hear the dreams of the young county jail inmate die, as you take your notes in History 1305. 

So shout your obscenities as the spit escapes through the gap of your teeth. You own these streets, smelling similar to three nights ago and carrying your life in a garbage bag. That cardboard sign with the misspelled plea is how you “make a living“. Pray to your god someone has pity.

We opened our eyes; it’s the end of the line. We depart the train and discover no one’s alive.  There’s nothing to do but wait in this ghost town for the city’s awakening. 

Reviews

[Dionysus Cain]

intersting i must say. the city is dead and the living things in it find no hope in their common sense. great write i must say i like the flow and i like the way it ended, nothing inbetween to try and confuse the reader, (alot of people do that thinking they are being different but it is stupid) good ink

[alan khan]

the last line added to the already pretty unique feel. good s**t.