Outside Of Jiminy's

they closed the door on me at jiminy's

as if i was too tall

or had too many freckles

or refused to take my sunglasses off

they were all angry at the same thing

and I wasn't

i could blow up their souls

but I didn't

solitude is a brother poet, after all

the way we leave wet streets alone

to shine and reflect and cry out loud

stars come to the city like outlaws

as if the cops kept them up in the sky

while they plot theft and rebellion....ecstacy, maybe

the cars run lost, no one arriving, really, where they want to be

I'm reduced to cat or rat or hungry stray

how you find family