Poser Urban Poet

I cut myself
on glass
because I tripped
                        and fell
over my words
on colfax,
and I became infected
with the street
because I was low
on city blood
and needed a
transfusion
so I could be bop
my way through lines of
Denver decay
and the beauty
of this banshee of a city.

but I am not
an urban poet,
and I barely manage
to keep myself
from standing straight
when I am greeted
with Denver at 3:47 a.m.,
because when I stop
hating my home
I trip and fall
over lost lines
of poems that bleed
on to my sidewalks,
leaving me to stitch my talent
back into my skin
because I am too safe
for my city.