Wish I knew what

I meander around wide halls,
in circles,
an Exit, not an Exit after all.

Bright yellow lights,
bounce of the polished yellow floor,
blind me.
Its the club of the elite,
yet it seems so ordinary,
in a poor sort of way.

I step out into the semi darkness of dusk
feeling let down
something just died,
surrounded by lavishness and liveried men,
Wish I knew what.

Untitled

There is thick dust at the big black gate,
sheeted metal pulled together, cold and silent,
locked.

Dust, gathered in a ball,
mixed with long grey hair,
an empty sachet of chewing tobacco.
It all flies a bit this side, then that,
each time a vehicle whizzes by.

A big thick red stain runs long,
dried into the concrete by the sun,
ugly, tomato sauce that someone stepped on.