Krakow

Krakow

Matt Maltese

In the pipes of this city
The rodents open up their eyes
The hover trains begin their lives
Like I do without you

I argue with my toaster
I wear my jeans a hundred days
Most intimate I’ve been of late
Is a pat-down at the airport

And I want what I can’t have
But I don’t want what I can
And that’s the recipe for being alone

I wonder through the market square
People selling Kraków tours
But the minimum’s for two people
I walk on like before
I crawl onto chapel steps
Just me and my hundred apps
I look around at no one else
And no one else looks back

And I want what I can’t have
But I don’t want what I can
And that’s the recipe for being alone

Yes, I want what I can’t have
But I don’t want what I can
And that’s the recipe for being alone

Krakow

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