I. Chicago I
My bedroom window is barred keeping
Everything but flies out
Sluggishly scavenging for carcass
They hover over me
They don’t know
That I’m not dead yet
My sweat smell of saliva
My sweat smells of fear
My pilgrimage so close to theirs
A feverish climb toward something
Anything
This town will eat me alive
I came singing
The praises of my temple
Guided to instinct like a caged animal
My first day here
I thought you would kill me
I’m still convinced that
You
Are simply
Waiting
For the right opportunity