Art Intimidating Life - The Ruins of my Mental Empire: Part Ninety-Nine

leaning against a warm evening wall
these bricks have it in for them
every now and again a car slides past
you can smell the sun-screamed-bitumen
dominating the morning's freshly cut grass
the smell of summer
every now and again a train glides by
bringing them all back home
families and fun days
and here i wait another ten minutes
for my large mexicana pizza
ten bucks
a dollar a minute, i think to myself
and take my time
spooking the local girls
or at least - trying not to
leaning against the wall
i rack up the stars
breath them in, like freshly cut grass
a child on a trampoline
i remember a time i took a piss just over there
not far behind where im standing now
twice in two weeks in fact
- yeah
i've taken a piss all over this place man
i think of the leunigs
i see myself walking to the horizon
whenever i get the chance to see one
i see myself chillin' in the shade
whenever i see some
this town - the home of my long-gone-familiars
that fucking building is over 100 years old
and here i am
leaning a wall not far off it
looking like a psycho
drinking like a madman
breaking like a little girl
waiting for a large mexicana
ten bucks
i reckon i got change