Pothole

Damn this city

Everything’s a

Pothole or a

Restaurant

And smells like pot

I forgot

Not everybody wants what I want

Not everybody’s thoughts are my thoughts

And my loss isn’t everybody’s loss

Here’s what we have

What we have made

And it feels like water on my face

At the end of the day

It’s sunset here

What's it for you?

How'd they get the pink light to

Come out like that?