“To put it rather bluntly, I am not the type who wants to go back to the land; I am the type who wants to go back to the hotel” Fran Lebowitz
Out Into The Wilderness
Urban nature
What a wild creature
Concrete, asphalt
Dog poop on the sidewalk
Grass may look green
But everyone has seen
It was spray painted
To keep it untainted
And just as a feature
Nothing quite like
The smell of petroleum
In the early morning
When riding that bike
Or taking a hike
Though fair warning
Try to avoid stepping
Onto the tossed wrapping
Made of aluminium
Reaching the heavy trafficked streets
Listening to the musical feats
Of the car horn section on the right
The jackhammers creating the beats
People shouting in chorus
Day feeling more bright
Like your name was Doris
Crossing the street at red light
Just for fun not out of spite
Come late evening
Walking through the darkened park
The streetlights broken
Someone a lurking
Deep in the bushes
Not at sea, so at least no sharks
Your pace fastening
Trying to be cunning
Then almost running
Finally arriving
To the safe haven
Entering the doorway
You realize you’re not in Norway
From the lack of pine trees
Rather the sweet smell of pee
Greeting you, making you sneeze
Not the perfume of choice
But it could be worse?
You could be camping
Out in the wilderness
In a sleeping bag, damping
Rain pouring on your sleepiness
Bears lurking outside
No where to hide
Clutching onto the covers
Hoping to survive
Until the sun rises
