"Demon Hour in the Financial District" by Scout Faller

your little ass
is haunted—the angel 

of affordable housing
couldn’t seduce me—

historians will note the soil was
discouraging, like blondie i’m blowing

the lights out and heading to
your city in a dead man’s jacket

it’s canvas, do you see
how i’ve complicated

it spatially, the appearance of
buildings where there aren’t any 

it’s complicated 
relationally, we used to be 

a site of harbor but like gaga 
i don’t wanna 

be friends, a mirror of high
rises scrambles my mouth, 

you’ve found someone new 
because investment

precipitates a return, she’s 
like a weathervane

signaling cloudlessness
in her calf muscles saying to make

a transfer you’ll
need a sealed envelope 

of meaning, crying
is the environ of the street

your words cut light 
like cubic zirconia

& i am brittle
when you consider me

-

Scout Faller (they/them) has poetry published in HAD, Hot Pink Mag, and Bullshit Lit. They work at the California Institute of Integral Studies and live in San Francisco. You can find them on instagram at boredgeoisie__.