poem for self-esteem

gold rims on the glasses all lit up in gold rims 

of the sun

pink hair square-jawed curly-headed lover

reflected in the window pane

reflecting all the tears, trust issues, scab-picked face

of gold-rimmed sun

and the sun on the weed bag

sun on the guitar strap

sun on the paper of an eyelash

pink crashes in your apartment window

don’t look to hard at your reflection

you might get lost in it

or the neon lights spelling oracle park

right in front of me san francisco’s baby

but don’t look too hard at that either

or you might get lost in it too

in the rosy hair and glasses of the streets

you get lost in them 

the homeless folks bundled up at night

you look past him

on the gold-colored rims of the city you saw

gold-colored

on the suited man in the street

pink-colored

on the creepy dude in skater pants

pink-haired

like the window pane all glowin upwards

of ethereal every city the same

every city pink-haired gold-rimmed

every city we have to relearn what

the last one taught us

that they’re all the same, they don’t change

taste metallic inequality on your pollution-colored tongue

in the streets that smell like dung

there will always be a man in a suit

lookin out his gold-rimmed window

and he’s got pink hair pink dry greedy eyes

and he looks out of his sky-high rise

and he sees the people go by

but he doesn’t even try

…

to lower the rent

cuz HE’s the gold-rimmed glasses

everyone wants to see what san francisco 

looks like from so up high

i like to get high to see it

but that man never has to come down

no he doesn’t

he doesn’t see the city but his own pink reflection

he doesn’t see the homeless people

doesn’t smell the streets

doesn’t hear the gunshots, police violence everywhere

just the sunshine on pink hair reflected

off gold glasses’ rims

but come on jim

are you gonna lower the rent?