Where Do I Land?

The city hums

a low, relentless buzzing

laced with the stench of human urinals,

the beat of angry cars

nearly colliding,

crashing like tidal waves

if not for fate

intervening at the very last second,

amused by its own timing.

High above it all, I wait

a lone wolf,

while my pack builds the world without me,

dictating who I should become

to belong in it.

They whisper

inequality,

hope,

and opportunity,

wrapped in the smug static

of late-night ads

promising I too

could be the best smoker

if only I invested

in their business plan.

Steel scrapers stretch beneath my feet.

I dangle

sixty feet above the promise,

a heartbeat away

from falling

into the dream

they sold me.

Where do I land?