C. Walker
A Sojourn in Toronto
From my glassy tower, glassy-eyed and tired,
I witness the frothing of humanity in the streets.
Where I come from, this many people in one
Place is either a mourning or a celebration.
When the sun rises, the masses begin their ritual
Of futurisms, of roboticisms, of progression.
I, too, have dreams of becoming something more;
At night, these dreams flicker in the skyline, cubisms.
Rubies and emeralds and sapphires dotted like stars
Over the obsidian vastness, cowering in their towers.
It would not be treasure if it were not locked away,
And thus the whole charade is so fitting, so enticing.
Bedazzled is benevolent, the crowded city roars;
Bedazzled unto blindness, crowded until displaced.
A million gems dancing in my irises, waltzing around
My corneas, cold and hungry leeches made of thoughts.
I have never stopped dreaming big, and I never will,
But the higher I climb, the smaller I seem to feel.
I miss the raw earth and its dirtiness, the closeness
To the rocks and trees, I miss the pastel, the subtle.
I want to break from the ritual of tomorrow, I want
To shatter the glass, bury the jewels, eviscerate the city.
While the city holds my body, it cannot lock me away;
Today is all I truly need, today is all I ever wanted.