Dreaming Of My Life In The City Poem by Zyw Zywa

It is quicksand, tricky
but there are no beasts
that gouge out my eyes
to tear me apart alive

nor is there any tide
no flood that drowns me
I'm just stuck
as in concrete, the sand

has hardened, yes
if there were tourists
I would wave at them
in their photos, but

there is nobody

I don't even feel anymore
how cold my legs are
and I think of peat bogs
that eat humans and animals

I think of passers-by
who come to my aid
before I hallucinate
and dry out, waiting