Dusk Melodies

Dusk.

That grey creeping dusk that settles on the city like dust, 
countless particles of night.

And all these night creatures, 

floating around their concrete fish bowl. 

Gangs of chain-smoking hooligans,
 that paw and cough and troll 

through the parting crowds. 

The dread-headed ring leader, 

the hangers-on 

and that guy,

who 'happened to grow up with them,' 

an allegiance that will flicker and wane over time,

 as they all take,
 to their respective paths.

It's the smell of hamburgers,espresso and diesel.

My city.

My chaotic, self absorbed nation of capitalists, 

opportunists

orphans

 and refugees. 

My demented little planet,

 and the joy of its obscuring nature. 

The music of your vagabonds, 

the promise of your towers. 

To drink in the Promethean pleasure of a Friday night, 

jumping and taxiing and staggering,

with drunken sores for eyes.

I glaze myself upon you.

I cant stop.

The perpetual acquisition of love.

Like little bits of tinsel I hold onto,

to light the trees, 

as the dusk settles in, 

through my sparkly forest.

Darker and darker now.

Down it goes.

Till you're choking on the blackness.

Till you're gasping for air.

While my lungs burn in the encroaching darkness,

I hide in the street light,

because I know

that the darkness brings with it

my deepest vulnerabilities,

and memories

of you.