An alley shaded,
cool vibrations
celebrating today,
gracing the drone and hum
with creation and music,
shelter from the storming sun.
This alley is a path between points
connecting two veins,
collaborating spaces,
making them one.
__________________
A black tongue from the joe,
Black lungs from the smoke,
71 in the shade that's blacker than the day,
The sun in this city lifts me,
these trees inspire.
I breathe easily in lieu of those lights
on big buildings, monoliths and gravities
ever stretching me thin, exhausting smog
roasting my skin, the sun in that city harassed me.
A black tongue and black lungs back home
is a taste of escape from the machine.
Here, i'm not suffocating,
welcomed by open skies,
hopeful people living
To live,
Not waiting to die
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