Skulls of Vacant Strangers

Fair weather in the spaces
Of time between the cinder blocks
Where all my books and all those little flops
In all my journals
Eat stale popcorn watching
Me like
I'm a late nite movie
Edited for T.V.
Basically,
Making pudding of my purity
In the skulls of vacant strangers
Wearing the soul
And tearing integrity
Demanding levity
In a furnished room
No view,
But you got your own
Can in a city
At zero velocity.