As letters amble onto and off of my screen,
I struggle to force words together
Permitting them to drabble the crisp whites of my new diary;
Attempting to erase the writer's block with deliberate scribbles.
Breathing in this new concoction of fragrances,
Soaking the alien sounds of a foreign tongue,
My ears are tickled by their raw, harsh rhythms.
Maybe the remedy to my block
Is the lullaby this city hums-
In its muffled giggles, and bellowing horns,
In screeching motorbike brakes, dampened by the incessant chatter of loves forlorn;
In meowing coffee machines, and groaning cats,
In monochromes of Monroe, transporting to eras of shutters and flash;
In rising smoke, and dying flames,
Unabashed stares, and averted gazes.
Here is the midnight humdrum of a 10 PM city,
From the fingertips of an outsider; walls of her penning inability
Being blotted out brick by brick, snore after snore.