The projects are there…
everything is drenched in poverty.
Lady in black,
how do I know you?
Unless I take another wrong turn,
I will never find you again.
I’m lost down the longer path.
My words will wither in your wrath…
unmarked vehicles tailing the human face-
in metal chalk outlines.
Keep up the pace,
or get left behind,
What I think about the most-
victims of landmines.
Hold me close to your unapologetic ghost.
The proverbial, lustrous cutlery
smacks me when I think or create.
Amber waves infected by chemical rain,
please deprive me of America.