Forgot your password?

We just sent you an email, containing instructions for how to reset your password.

Sign in

  • The
    plumbing leaks,
    the wiring ancient,
    the concrete floors cold,
    every window broken
    like a busted heart
    from 80 years of abandonment
    and abuse.

    there's debris
    and always the displaced
    and half-dead humanity
    in a field of old rags,
    industrial waste,
    discarded auto parts
    and used condoms.
    of course
    the barbed wire:
    in appropriate places.

    droves of
    nomad-like homeless
    sift through the clutter,
    the trash,
    the rotting garbage,
    searching for hope,
    for aluminum cans
    as if it were gold
    and then disappear
    into the rusted
    and dirty brown terrain
    like camouflage,
    awake all night,
    finding sleep
    in the shade of day.

    the street
    the huge water tank
    atop the toy factory
    gets painted
    a much brighter blue,
    while artists sweep
    the daily dust
    from their lofts
    and writers ask why
    they mumble to themselves.
    Asian merchants
    pack and unpack
    more and more trucks,
    as a few remaining hobos
    kick out their fires
    and hop freights,
    yet fewer
    and fewer of them
    know a thing about Kerouac
    or even how
    to spell his name.

    and me...?

    I'm not sleeping off
    the depression,
    I usually pace
    in wide circles,
    often dizzy from the high,
    some days
    luckier than others
    and sometimes
    having the good fortune
    by possessing
    the correct answers,
    glad to be home

    though home
    is just a shit-stain
    and one wall away

    the end of the world.


    (c)2014 Miles Ciletti

    Original music by Tim Eilers

    Original artwork in collaboration with Alex "A" Noble
    • Share

    Connected stories:


Collections let you gather your favorite stories into shareable groups.

To collect stories, please become a Citizen.

    Copy and paste this embed code into your web page:

    px wide
    px tall
    Send this story to a friend:
    Would you like to send another?

      To retell stories, please .

        Sprouting stories lets you respond with a story of your own — like telling stories ’round a campfire.

        To sprout stories, please .

            Better browser, please.

            To view Cowbird, please use the latest version of Chrome, Safari, Firefox, Opera, or Internet Explorer.