dreaming in the city that never sleeps

sometimes people wonder

what the world would look like

from the perspective of an ant—

from the perspective

of some poor,

toiling soul

laboring between

sediment skyscrapers,

utterly insignificant

as they contribute

to vast,

faceless monoliths,

forever feeding

their insatiable heights

as their caffeine sunken eyelids

drain into the asphalt,

flooded away by black rain

tracing through each and every

snarl of concrete

they helped create,

gazing upon their reflections

in the city that never sleeps,

and seeing nothing

but the ruptured rapture

of dreams once believed in.

 

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