Tyranny

The foliage of tyrannical apartment buildings tower above,
stark in the idea held in place of a cold, white summer.

I suck in the metallic reek of icy air down the exhaling streets.

A girl dances, tip toe,
slowly along the yellow line
between the traffic.
The heads of the cars all turn as they pass by.

Down to the park we stumble
and litter the place with our regrets.
We taunt the garbage cans
sitting idly by,
when she laughs at me
laughs at the thought,
that someone like me, alive, would not die
on a place like this.