bushwick barbie
broken barbie
that’s what you called me
not my fault no one knew
how to play with me nicely
leave my plastic all over the floor
when you decide you’re bored
and want me no more.
-
gave into every single trope
bushwick chewed me up
and swallowed me whole
feels like breathing
under shallow water
it’s no wonder
I have no soul
and whoever said
“happiness is a choice”
must not have moved to new york.
-
go out at 9
get home at 4
the dive bars and pool tables
the trash and the trains
feels like all is broke down
in this bohemian town
and I kinda love it
cause it looks like me.
-
neverland
that place where
no one grows up
the lost boys and sad boys
who never shut up
they all come from money
and like me so much
they feel my distance
and mistake it for love.
-
oh, brooklyn, how I crave thee
borough of unhappy
killer of creativity
couldn’t wait to escape
my lowlife town
and now i’m part of the problem
walking around like i grew up here
when it’s so obvious
i’ve been here
for 2 whole years.
-
and I squint
across the street
something new is rising up
a high-rise
a coffee shop
a whole foods
at ground level
and I scoff in disgust
because they really got us
with capitalism comes convenience
and damn,
my fridge is empty
and I could use some groceries…
