Sometimes shit goes wrong. 

 

It happens. The world can

pull some crap on you, the street

unraveling beneath your black converse

and shattered burnt umber coke bottles behind you. 

 

Sometimes America is more red

than blue. 

 

It happens. Sidewalks filled with

empty people. Rotten yellow

sunflower petals arch in darkened

shop windows. 

 

Sometimes the wrong ceiling is 

shattered. 

 

Women with cherry wine lipstick, 

smudged as midnight ticked past.

Charcoal nights blended with tears

where only men dressed in gold smile.

 

Sometimes you give up.

 

Shadows in New York City apartments,

eating day-old Mexican take out and

holding beer bottles like it was their

mother's hand. 

 

Shit goes wrong. 

 

Dig in your heels. Spit in the face of

bigotry, the bright neon red of prejudice.

This is not normal, this is not normal.

Walk the streets, feel them crumble, heavy

mist sighing from city grates. 

 

Put it back together.