smeared black ink: your palms are sweaty and I'm
barely listening to last demands
I'm staring at the asphalt wondering what's buried
underneath where I am
I'll wear my badge: a vinyl sticker with big block
letters adherent to my chest
that tells your new friends I am a visitor here: I
am not permanent
and the only thing keeping me dry is where I am
you seem so out of context in this gaudy apartment
complex
a stranger with your door key explaining that I
am just visiting
and I am finally seeing why I was the one worth
leaving
d.c. sleeps alone tonight
you seem so out of context in this gaudy apartment
complex
a stranger with your door key explaining that I
am just visiting
and I finally seeing why I was the one worth
leaving
the district sleeps alone tonight after the bars turn
out their lights
and send the autos swerving into the loneliest
evening
and I am finally seeing why I was the one worth
leaving