Blue Collar Trash Roots

There’s a rush outside of this building, there’s a lively carnival playing.

Everyone who was enjoying my smiles no longer wants to be staying.

I understand how I’ve done them wrong by being my raging self.

Changed my skull thrice for their viewing pleasure into a heraldic delf.

The curtains are taped to the floor but I manage to shoot a single stare in.

Thousands of on-loop rebels cheering while white noise on earphones is blaring.

Eardrums collating their lack of skills in one washed out pantomime folk tale.

I pull on the curtain to fasten my blue collar trash roots in place like a forte.

There’s a rush outside of this building, there’s a lively carnival passing.

Everyone who left is better without me – jaywalking or trespassing.