Alone in the Mission

Alone in the Mission
concrete caucasian
dressing undressing
shop by shop
head in the headphones
soundtrack to the pace
of a lonely languid beat.

Drinking not drinking
one is enough
as I read lines
of Parisian Czech men
reminiscing American
in an overpriced vegan
Mexican restaurant.
What a fucking melting rot.

I walk out, full of empty
nothing like me.
Nothing like this glitzy
shitty, pity city.
Oh the signs they are blazing
as my mind goes all hazy
looking glassy church praising
loud and amazing
that woman she's praying
and splaying
Jesus Christe forgive me
her heart is a prism
and I, a cliche cataclysm.