Metro Narcissist


In stained red fabric I take my seat
as doors around me shudder shut.
A bitter stench of sweat and urine
stumbles into the adjacent chair.
Telltale signs of spirits.

He’s standing at the exit,
pouring music from his belt.
Shoulder blades bouncing under his leather jacket,
as he dances with the dapper man outside the door.
He shakes his ass, half exposed,
falling deeper in love with the echo of his beat.


The Thing Upstairs

The wind all but buckled the beauty.

It is common place now in the residence.
the creak of the third floorboard.
the resistant door.
the rattling toilet.
the shuddering table.
So she decided to pay it no mind.

Despite the signs from upstairs.
the howl in the night.
the click-clack of claws.
the wail of a cat.
the footsteps of a man.
She thinks she’s alone.

She tries to keep it out of her mind.
as she takes her eyes off the doors.
as she double checks the locks.
as she hums prayers over the beads.
as he prowls upstairs in circles.
And lies down to get some sleep.

She tries to be calm.
but the hinges have cracks on them.
and the boards have marks.
she can hear his claws scratching at the floor.
his fangs gnawing at the supports.
Her heart constricts with any noise.

She hopes she can survive another night.