Look at this right now

under blue moon i saw you.
the sweep light push backs of the conference room.
the view of the financial district.
of pine street,
after 6pm,
when the subway entrance closes on maiden lane,
and you have to walk to nassau avenue,
through the j train platform,
the solemn reminders of fulton street,
the homeless newspaper and haunted headlines,
the quiet cell phone.

sad as hell. wontons.
paper napkins, toilet paper napkins.
soy sauce blisters.
slowly taking the garbage out.
one bag at a time.
the alarm clock at 5am.
blood on the toilet paper.
oral sex.

the financial district is haunted.
i tried to tell everyone that, sent out
email after email.
i saw the ghost of the cleaning lady
eating scraps out of the garbage,
she threw a corn dog at me.
told me to 'get lost'.

why aren't we as cool as we hoped?
the rent check didn't bounce
because i didn't mail it in.