There is a part of me
that wonders
what it would feel like
to throw myself in front of the Metro
Buffalo, NY
a part of me
praying to be mugged at knifepoint
a part of me
praying to be harassed by crooked cops
I pretend the trash
blowing on the wind
is a person sneaking up behind me
gun in hand
knife in hand
club in hand
to beat the holy living shit out of me
and there's a part of me
that is sorely disappointed
when it's just trash
when it's just leaves
blowing on the wind
and no one harasses me
and I'm alone
and bored.