The Last Bastion

The pitbull barks
in Long Island City
back in the day
talkin' round about
hmmm... 1986.

This place is
the last bastion
tucked behind the
chain-link fence
under the tracks
no glimmering light
nothing but
darkness and shadows.

Long gone
I am gone
beyond anger
and sentimentality.

But then why
do you keep
stepping in
and stepping out
of my dreams.