I Gave the World the Finger

I gave the world the finger
and it high-fived me in my face
so I hid behind my skillset
off the city's dirty streets

spent years hiding indoors
temp jobs at foreign desks
behind cubicle walls, on bottomless floors
for weeks or hours or days

pens and papers left for someone else
spreadsheets made from epics
pie charts made from sketchbooks
reducing t-shirt slogans to far less

under dim lights in some office
breathing bad air and giving looks
after pointless days
falling into the empty streets

reciting poetry to no one
still red-eyed and hungover
content to pass this time alone
if only for this moment

sprawling on dirty carpets
in bedrooms rarely slept in
surrounded by old bottles
and balloons of forgotten origin

floating drunk on rooftops
huddled against the sinking night
wrapped in lines from mythic Beats
smoking menthols, then back inside