sometimes i wonder
if the buses will ever come
and grow weary waiting
with passerbys watching
hesitantly clutching their purses
while judging with shaking heads
denying me eye contact
as if i can’t tell
they are looking down on me
even before they enter
their downtown penthouse
on the opposite corner
of where i just got my fix
i see the windows of your building
so chic and cosmopolitan
people watch inside the lobby
safe behind locked doors
security gazing down her long nose
with one finger on the button
and the other on her holster
i see the windows
couldn’t care less of you
or anyone else on the 14 floors
i only see myself staring back
i see the windows,
a stranger staring back
and want to smash them out
want to be free
of this itch, this thirst, this hunger
want to chase the tourists
away from this harbor
so i can enjoy this fix
near the water
without being bothered
should my midnight
crash into the bushes
