Late Night Thoughts

Dallas

In the walls, though prefaced with an artist's touch
In the roads, though sturdy and well worn
In the faces of gossiping women, though illuminated glorious by the seemingly endless sun
Cracks are everywhere here

Driving downtown is an art
My blood boils with excitement
as I match the Texan technique
I can't help but smile through the danger
A curtain has opened and I no longer am in the audience

As I drive, my hands remain clenched on the wheel
My eyes take in every detail that they can
My hair is up, ready for a fight
My lungs take in the heat bouncing off the pavement
I'm so close to the finish line, I'll drive forever until I find it

There is no rest here, however
So I know that this place must remain an oasis
This place I've always loved,
with its face so smothered in expensive makeup as if
hoping to hide the insincerities it works tirelessly to
abolish from the minds of tourists like myself
Is still so beautiful

There's nowhere like Dallas, to be sure
My ambivalence for it might be greatly outweighed by
my search for place
But in some form, it now holds a home