This city’s inside one wearing breath.
I can breath and there it is.
Tiny, coping with drugs and pornography.
It settles in warm and comfy inside one tiny breath.
Like the big bang, if ever there was one.
I sit down, breath little conundrum.
Tiny people walk inside,
they don’t know the half–
just that they’re very small.
Trim and proper, the bold and brash;
all sit down on benches at malls.
Waiting to be reborn with one more breath.
Into a fire, they perish instantly,
only to be reborn with one more puff.
A sad existence only if you know.
I can breath and there it is — inside that breath!
Like the big bang, if ever there was one.
I sit down, breath little conundrum.
Note: I’ll try to record the audio and update this.
Very thought provoking… The repetition you used is very effective… When i read this, i see myself sitting in a park, smoking a cigarette watching the world go by. The interesting thing about that, which is why this is such an excellent poem, is that it makes me think about what i would be thinking about in such a situation!