I hate this town (a poem)

Today’s late entry. The original title was slightly different—I saved the expletive for the end…

Something keeps bringing me back
to this place where I was born
this place I waited years to leave

My old habits
become my new habits
my new habits get old

The air thickens
the moving’s slow
here I stand, empty-handed

Wherever I go
the trap works in reverse
throwing me back

Every time, the streets are different
the storefronts have changed
and there’s more and more of everything

except opportunity

Because now the city
chases youth and entitlement
while I flirt with the end of my bracket
and fight back against invisibility

Man, I fucking hate this town…

(8 June 2017)

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