My muddled thoughts and dulled subconscious,
Still clinging to my wit and roots,
Must guide me through another borough
Of shady deals and business suits.
Restrained emotions, dulled impressions,
And crowds projecting cold malaise,
I saunter through the streets of habit,
This city in a numbing haze.
In dimness of the noontime treadmill,
What little sunlight cuts through fog,
Affects the creatures' minds and reason,
Prepares a saddened epilogue.
For each residing city dweller
Succumbs in time to murky air,
Without the will to search for brilliance,
Relenting to their deep despair.
Surprisingly I reach the outskirts,
My business done and time can start
To migrate to my next appointment,
Repairing soon my listless heart.
Jack has published over 350 poems in his career, many with his own photography. He specializes in a view of the commonplace and Americana.