Seattle City Veins

It's been a long time since I rode the train
Travelling through the city
Through these city veins
Watching the tattooed window panes
Stream by
At graffiti mili seconds
It seems I
Have gotten so comfy
Driving through the arteries
I forgot that the
Ink that strings my seems
Came from these
Collapsing capilares
So irritated
That the needles  
running out of places
Too poke.
Too poor for coke.
There are veterans
Men and woman younger than
Me calling tents
Under highway bridges
Home.
I saw a man and spouse,
Passing through othello
Living in a community
Full of small buildings
Just a little bit bigger
Than an average sized
Dog house.
And I wasn't even suprised.
Just morbidly concerned
That section 8 has turned
Into cages with wooden walls
And maybe a small window.
But I rode on,
With my headphones on
As if nothings wrong
With this picture.
Sometimes I wish
i was Bob the builder,
Or some kind of ghetto doctor fixer upper,
So I can help these lost cells
trying to get a fix
Maybe fix themselves
So we can come together,
And mix ourselves
To stop the violence.
I want to shake hands with the police
Without them turning away
Too ignore me
Because they're afraid that I might try them.
I won't deny its,
Crossed my mind
a time
Or two.
The city has built so many malls
But our fore arms
Are sore from
All these skid marks
Pot holes in the cement
Train platforms so they can raise rent
This displacement
Is invasive
Though I hate it
This neighborhood and I
Have some kind of like an engagement
I pray it
Doesn't get too much more
High maintenance
Or I may hit,
The road to somewhere further
Because these new business'
And buildings is
Making it to crowded for me to raise a daughter.
It almost feels like a man in a suit
Driving  truck
Is pushing a wall
And on the other side
Are calloused hands
Wearing matted timberands
making plans
To push back.
But everyone's hands are too
Weak.
And no one has time
Because our kids need to eat,
And in order to make ends meat
You have to have two jobs
I mean,
How can we fight
when it seems like
The hours pass faster
When you're at low income
Working manual labor
Or you've gotten tired
Of trying to climb the ladder
So you buy a dime
And a 2 eleven
Just live for a bit in ghetto heaven
On the corner of rainier and Henderson
The high schoolers are numb
To seeing you forget it's been
Years since you've clean.
I mean,
We all have hit the pipe
Maybe once or twice.
But this train ride
Has my brain like
Up side down
and tilted over
I hate myself for being sober
But jack and coke won't
Make this memory
A movie almost over
It'll just do what's it always does.
Make me numb
and make me old
Turn a blind eye
To the lady
On the corner
With a sign
In the freezing cold.
It makes me
Take these
Freeways like arteries
So I can ignore the fact that the
Streets I come from might be
Gone in just a few years.
But I don't she'd tattooed tears
Or poor a sip for the homies.
I take a sip
Turn on car
And head north east,
To Bellevue
Where they won't mug you,
And the streets aren't bruised
From life's frustrations.