My old neighborhood...

I sit on her cold steps

The ghost of a blight

Stings lit at the end of my cigarette but

In the wet shadows of a step-cut hilltop

Overlooking my old ghost

The old widow that use to trap me

Her cracked streets

And grinning windows

Her chipped fingers covered in leaves

And hanging over her grins

But this night she wavers in despair

With a glance upon my face

Remembering the joy I took away

When I moved that day

From her old

Ignorant-negro covered bones

Then again

Somehow

Her grins still linger

Maybe because she has new prisoners

Though none as delicious as me of course

Suddenly it's not so cold

A warm lost cat

Splashing fur

Against the scratchy gruff

Of jean pants
It explains it'll be my companion for this trip

Since we're looking for Salvation

And from that I move to one memory

And then the next

Housed at strategic points

On the old widows frame

As if I'm her misguided lover

Deceived into a round of post-breakup sex

My only cries of passion

Are a symbolic lost cat

And a glowing cigarette

The next morning I look over at what I've done

And

in horror

get out as fast as possible!