city mouse

might’ve eaten you up &

spit you out, might’ve drown

you out with the hurricane of

late, might’ve drained your pockets,

might’ve taken you for all you had

& cheated you of what you dreamed,

but for some reason,

some sweet reason,

the concrete comes singing

& the country just ain’t what it’s been

cracked up to be---

city mouse wanting another chance

to walk the walk, to talk the talk,

to have the blood bounce with electric

lights, to writhe in the neon at 4 am &

not have a care for the sunrise,

to smell the steam coming from neath’

the manholes drifting up along the

stained asphalt,

to dodge cabs & nutbags with led feet

like it’s the indie, but never really getting

about 50mph on any street before

curbing round the corner---

and yes the city has a flow &

yes, if you can’t stay afloat it will

bury you down, but

there are times to pretend & times to

be real & if the country is a’ stranglin’

then ya got to get back by any means

necessary, ya got to get back to where

you think you’re meant to be,

regardless of what anybody else thinks---

because,

no one’s gonna help you anyway,

no one gives a f**k &

if you forget that after leaving the city,

you better get back to remember that

self-determination is the only answer.