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LIFE AND LIES #60 | The 39th Floor

On the balcony of 39th floor, 
He used to get drunk
In the company of friends,
Paul, Jacob and Old Monk.

While the music played,
He gazed far away
Into the distance,
At the City of Dreams,
Stretching far and wide
Against the backdrop of hills,
The neatly stacked buildings
Shimmering in the night.

Income Disparity Landscape,
He called it.

The rushing vehicles were blurred lines,
And the highway, a beam of light.
Emanating from the heart of the city,
It crossed the creek that flowed underneath, 
Lined up with mangroves on either side.
The flamingos, in abundance now,
Would be leaving soon.

When the music changed,
He watched a boat
Wading into the narrow creek
And looked for people on board
Only to find versions of himself,
Or at least,
What he envisioned himself to be:
The genius billionaire,
The disgruntled caped crusader,
The charismatic savant,
The nonchalant pretender.

It wasn't until 
The night of rumination ended,
And dawn broke,
That he heard a voice,
Faint but familiar,
"In the day nothing matters.
It's the nighttime that flatters."

***
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