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title
"... brevity is the soul of wit ..."
- William Shakespeare

Christopher Fried


 

Small-Town Lights

Internal motions push you out the door,
while thoughts aren't set where, and the engine roars.
You head downtown to where remains some action
despite it's after ten. Lights drive your passion.

The windows down, the soft humming synthwave
takes on the humid air, and all but save
your latest disappointment energizes,
for even the small-town man fantasizes,

and though you keep mute as your heart outpours
when grasping at the neon signs you've fashioned
as myths of variegated lives one craves,
harsh evidence they're low too, brutalizes.