The Trade

An eavesdropper,
Must take his leave as the trade dictates,
Silently, and in the dead of night.

I leave this in hope,
That you find that elusive and fleeting happiness,
That was always denied,
To me.

For these surrounds,
This place - it's like stepping into a lung.
A nicotine-stained, blackened lung.
The men who move within it,
Faces like the insides of teapots.

We demand the finest wines of humanity,
For without aspirin we shall die,
Upon this volcanic mountainside.
We demand them here and now.

We are in a world
where Mi Goreng noodles
for humans
are cheaper than dog food,
for dogs.

This cheapens me.
I cannot say why.
But the words I cannot say devalue the words that I can.
Until ashes spew from my mouth,
and are carried by the wind,
to you, unheeding.

I leave this in hope,
That you find that elusive and fleeting happiness.
It was always denied to me.

As an eavesdropper,
Takes his leave as the trade dictates,
Silently, and in the dead of night.