Sympathy

I crawled out of a wrecked van, met the eyes of a guilty man, he was hoping I would understand

And in the dead of night, waiting on a blinking light, a flock of smug blue and whites

Asked the cop if he likes Jokerman, he said he wasn’t much of a Dylan fan, I kinda wished he’d just pretend

Walked into a hotel lobby, FOX news blaring something shotty, greeted by an impatient Bobby

Looking for sympathy

Looking for sympathy

Looking for sympathy

Looking for sympathy

Depressed driver said lifes only getting harder but he still buys into the propaganda

I saw Hockney’s Seasons change, a print of a digital page, a crowd saying what’s the rage

Saw American Gothic in the flesh, felt like I was on a set, surrounded by actors doing their best

Felt my body buzz, eyes wet, stared at Emily Kempf, I must confess it kinda felt heaven sent

Oh no have I become a soppy mess

A work in progress

bound to decompress

Thankful nonetheless