Concrete Jungles Poem by Tyler Lashbrook

I mask the distasteful smell of dog
with a cheap cologne I bought
with some change from the seat of my car.

Put on some old Nikes, beaten up-
battered and bruised,
covered in mud from my last hiking trip.

Walk outside; hear the sirens from the red and blue
calling my name, yet they know not where I am
and I doubt they’d take me in, anyways.

Hop inside the Volkswagen, begin my journey
through the concrete jungle
where the wild is tame.

Where unattainable dreams remain.
The gorillas actuate fate, dismember the pieces.
Snakes mischievously slither through the alleyways

looking for young pawns to deceit.
Kill, break- leave behind for vultures
who stalk those who are not cautious.

This is the real world (and
how I wish it was not true)
I could not bring myself to falsify
this planet with cheesy metaphors
and lackluster hyperboles.