A Frustrated Poet

Sometimes you just can't figure out what's going on around you.

I navigate the concrete jungle unsteady
held fast by the sidewalks marshmallow grip
while a signpost cackles, menacing at me.

My reflection ripples in watery glass facades.
Bricks attack like alternating cash drawers,
Ka-ching                        Ka-ching
                  Ka-ching
Ka-ching                        Ka-ching
with every assaultive blow.

The lamplight pulses at stellar magnitudes,
stranding me, spotlit, in the altogether
as winged vermin suffer a minuet to my cries.

As in a dream I run, unmoving.
Carriages of a thousand horses congeal
while vibrating puppets gossip all around.

I raise my head,
my pleading eyes
to the small children beaming down at me
and crush me between their small candied fingers.