A Furlough in Suburbia

It's too quiet in the suburbs

The deathly kind

That makes me feel

myself rotting away

I miss the sirens

And the throbbing pulse

of the nightclub on the corner

The drunken laughter

And humming electricity

I stand in the street

of my childhood neighborhood

No traffic, no people, no life

I see the moon so clearly

And such stars

I am reminded that it's night

That it's dark.

That time is moving away from me.

The city is immortal

Awake and alive forever.

It is a part of me

Now ripped away

And I count the days

'Til I am made whole again.