Something’s steaming inside of me.
Some sort of excitement
for things I’ve never known before.
I miss what I haven’t met.
I’ve dreamed of things that haven’t been yet.
I’m a building in New York looking down
at every rising business,
every China town.
I am burning like the lights,
burning brighter, actually.
I can’t see the stars anymore because of
the glossy sheen of possibility.
I’m blinding myself with ego
I’ve never been so hungry, so gluttonous.
Never have I tasted the good life,
but man, I heard it’s sweet.