The attraction:
The city, the system,
the rhythmic beat, drunken buzz, job status and respect.
The urge:
drawing you closer
with desire.
And gripping you with a jealousy:
A deep jealousy you haven’t felt since that school yard
hearing of others doing things that you have never
experienced
And too inexperienced to deal with what you heard.
Watching:
low.est
com.mon
de.nom.i.nat.or
Nonetheless, powerless
dancing with martinis, bottled beers
Taking pictures of myself with popular people
in low light, splashing love, money, and gin
trying to impress popular, rich people
and myself.
The pulsing light:
Cities and dreams reliant on
alcohol and oil
always numbing our senses
always compromising us with ever more conveniences
Comprised but careless of consequences
never mind the hangover
(An environmental hangover swelling beneath us).
The system is compelling
Like a subtle energy, magnetic and brilliant.
And, I, attracted like a moth
Only noticing now that
(despite my dreams, my hopes
and overcoming my brute jealousies)
I’m stuck in a small bedroom and whether I fly towards to the incandescent light
or the window
I’m still stuck
confused by the alcohol and fumes
in an inescapable system
SYSTEM
Realising that, no, I’m not trying to enter the city fortress
but I’m in it
no matter where
URGE
Realising that this urge is not a pushing force of desire
but a pulling force of submission
POWER
Bright light and super power
Like a supergiant star, it has engulfed us all