The Broken Strings Send Their Love

Parking lots have taken my soul
haling the metal box gathering change
distribution of clanging silver
wasting the valuable space for love songs
broken guitars instead lay in the back corners
cigarette butts and fucked up letters

i love neon in all its forms
glowing bright vacancy signs
proclaiming bedbug love
with one night stand and families tired on their feet
broken down cars holding on for one more night

his cigarette smoke drifts in front of it all
grey clouds covering a rainbow array of letters
numbers tiny underneath
and a wicked smile on his face as ashes flick
then strut over to the man with broken guitars
and a collection of parking lot change