Spirits

Evening came like an unwelcome relative during an unwanted holiday

The air was thick and the cigarette smoke was almost intoxicating

I could hear mindless mumble through the apartment wall, as always.

The walls smelled like paint, just like they always have, no matter what, paint

In the recesses of the walls i can hear the mice running after their dinner

Ive layed on the couch so many nights and listened to the point im almost positive ive counted 13 at onece rummaging in the same areas.

When i sleep at night the previous tenants come to me in my dreams and tell me of the poison here and how you become part of it

The dumpster outside stays overflowing and there is never a shortage of shoppers for the overflow

I prefer the nights here, rhey hide more

The darkness almost makes It seem like a well written boukowski poem.

But lets be honest

Its shit

Amd we all love it