Jim Yoshii Pile-up Middle Harbor Road
This isn’t life.
This isn’t ok.
This isn’t much more
than survival.
I know the kids next door bother you.
I’ve seen you flinch at the screams and the abuse.
I know the cars at night honk at you.
I’ve seen the rings around your eyes in the morning.
Ooh, They’re selling guns on the corner.
Maybe we should reconsider.
Well, how much do they want?
This might be the best that we ever do,
living in the gap between downtown
and the water,
filling in the blank spaces,
clinging to you,
miming through our lives again,
sleeping with the lights on again.
If we don’t take sides will we slip by unnoticed?
If we duck inside, keep our heads down, don’t go out?
“How much are they?”
“Well how much is it worth to you?”
