In garbage strewed alleys
The Book lay abandoned
A solitary Pen shudders in an uncaring wind
Rolling in time to the groans of dying gods
Words written in Human excrement
Smeared across aged brick
Proclaim the death of truth
Who wanders aimlessly
A mendicant seeking…
Always seeking…
Neon illuminates burnt souls
With store bought smiles
And snake oil pockets
Flashing credit cards
Like Gunslingers
Carrying Coupons
Written in third world blood
The Book with need
The Pen with passion
Lie covered
With collective indifference
Who would grasp the Ink?
Who would give voice?
Invisible tears
Mingle with flotsam and jetsam of the real
Blaring trumpets announce Phony Poets
Selling words and tin hearts
Passion hangs on a roadside bar
Feet kicking
Tongue lolling
With a face the shade
Of Martha Stewart’s bed sheet du Jour
It rather die than live here
It lays in garbage strewed alleys
Abandoned
Who will grasp the Ink?
Who will give voice?
I think YOU gave it voice! Wow, Quas.. the images that this write creates are vivid and sharp. Now quite diggin in the garbage and writing on walls with excrement… there’s more work to be done!
Hee… Hee… Can’t help it, it’s where I live. By the way they want to increase my man support by $800.00. Well I guess there isn’t much difference between minus 500 and minus 1500.
jeeze.. I wish I got as much support as your ex and kid.. lol
Shoulda married me when I asked ya.
hmmmm… that musta happened during one of my blackouts.…
Yea I drugged ya and took ya to the Justice of the peace and when he asked you if “you do” I gripped your head and nodded it yes. So technically we are married.
I’ll be home late tonight Darling.
lol… figures…