Dumpy

Dumpy   Grey skies rain, grey office buildings which are which are crumbling, dumpy like me like my people my kind of people real pasty lovely. In Tower City there is an airbrushed woman in the window of Victoria’s Secret’s. Fuck her, no not as in “I want to” but as in “fuck her” and everything she represents. Vapid silly give me dumpy real sweaty lively give me real honest to goodness love not advice not sacrifice nor pouty lips give me grey crumbling buildings here then vibrance, color in my life my real life away away from Tower City, the fake world, the sex starved money starved additive riddled world. Give me the grocery stores and the kitchens, give me entrance to the house of God. Let me find the real people in my neighborhood my house my heart. The lovely, the ugly, the dumpy. Not the flat abb’d people who are concerned with keeping their abs flat. Not the wealthy or the popular, nor the liars who lie to get ahead. Give me the liars who lie to protect who lie to save. Give me the t-shirt and jean crowd, the black the white the Mexican and the Croat who know no love. Give me the wrinkled the truly beautiful and the panhandler. Everything else leave behind, the prettily dressed girl the Saturday nights, the formerly glorious downtown now construction and ruin and dumpy.