80 irving park
what do you see in front of you
as you mumble in verse
holding onto an effigy of landmarks
that once stood, but are now buried
beneath an admixture of confusion.
you are lost and somehow
found in places conducive to repetition
as your violent container is shaken
by moments of dendritic pulse.
with hands stretch outward
you ask for transcendence
away from the anonymous streets of oz
and into a reality much more sane