Broken Poetry

A Night Out

I wobble down the ally way, my brain nowhere near my head, my hand guiding me down the walls as my wobbly feet try to keep up. I stare into the darkness, trying to make out shapes and lines from the shadows, but out in the corner, next to what seems like a dumpster, movement can be seen.  The animal or person is hunched over, making small growling noises as I continue to walk towards the unknown creature. Maybe it was for the thrill or to make my night interesting once again, but I curiously continued. As I neared the object, what I saw amazed me. There digging into the dumpster with a slice of half eaten pizza was none other than 

"Spider-Man?"