The Place Where Cain and Abel Live

When I was Holden Caulfield the irony tickled me giddy
like songs of innocence
to see a city like war
strip away civilization
leaving bare
snaps and bites fighting
for meaningless
jobs, things,
space,
women,

not far from Chiraq
now I react
with the flinches of a prisoner,
claustrophobe, xenophobe,
misanthrope,
the war is
meaner,
the charade
harder
in this
nervous breakdown
they call a city
where mobs of unhappy
have evolved so far beyond
snaps and bites and fights
into itchy triggers
scratching the walls
waiting to go off,
I-don’t-care-anymore violence junkies,
revenge addicts
jonesing to get wet.