Tuesday, September 25, 2012

Wednesday, September 12, 2012


She's standing under the El
patiently waiting

An off-orange glow, dull
spotted with headlights
that peak her interest

A large pink bra under
a black lace see-through shirt
a short leather skirt
pleasantly protruded in the back

She is waiting with patience
standing under the El

Her hair is black, frizzy
covering her face slightly

She leans on one side
her elbow resting on her
full-bodied hip

A big purse dangles
to rest on her back,
added to the landscape
of soft leathered mounds

Patterned nylons that
match the shadowed
chain-link fences
all around

Her big body pedestaled
by little black high-heeled boots

The pavement is dry
adding allegorical truth

It is a Sunday at Midnight
The air is heavy with sweat
She waits, nothing happening,
Not yet

On Kensington Avenue
a hot summer night
this living diorama
sits about perfectly right


I'm hidden in the shadows
I move as they move

going down dark roads
row houses, one way streets

I'm hidden in the shadows

I'm always inside
I'm always inside
I'm always inside the city


sick husbands, lonely wives
leading secret terrible lives

in the brick boxes
painted a color to make you
feel a certain way
the things we get into
trapping ourselves inside these walls

selfish desire
lack of intimacy

it makes no sense in the city
where there's temptation
around every dark corner

I'm always inside
I'm always inside
I'm always inside the city