lost angels

it's the inbetweenies,
the whats and thoses.
lost POWs in this desperate city
shopping carts are tanks
PBR cans vs. Charles Shaw
sound like

it hurts.

i just want to go home.
but home is full of traffic lights,
too loud
voices form words smothered in sentences
i choke.
underwater earsache,

i cling to

a girl washing dishes
in flat, white shoes.