Chris Ryan Lauer
elizabeth street
where
several women in shades of green
resemble eva
but i sleep next to others now
and the upper crust of this city pay them all white salary
it’s important to be in love most of the time
all of the time
or in something that closely resembles it
i find myself sleeping and waking everyday without an instruction manual
and the postal van that’s parked in front of my mailbox
is the enemy
i think through conflicted feelings
involving
contrived intimacy
and a lack of authenticity
but coffee
&
the opening of my soap glazed shower door
allows the light to come in each morning
there’s still one cloud left over my home
but i don’t pay much attention to it
because i live in its interior
where a manic scene
of wine
laughter & gesticulation
within a certain vacuous civilization intersect
each night
Clamor 