Like, how did all of Atlantic Avenue suddenly become you?

Like, how did all of Atlantic Avenue suddenly become you?
Where do you clap your hands
when there are too many people around you?
The wood in this apartment is stressed. What I need is a recognizable
creak that I can oil or fill with wax. I see this zenith, see?
Everything is going to be alright or not.
I woud like nothing more than to supply my body
with sugars and fats. I'd like to connect with people
and form a bond of some sort. But still, I'm just
looking up all the avenues and you are those
streets I can still detect you on each one
I counted them and I am walking them home.