17 September 2009

tenderloin blues

the smell of urine mixed with medicinal marijuana
permeates through the air as i walk past a stoop filled with
some poor soulless soul's worldly possessions
old newspapers blowing in the wind
flashing yellow lights and the constant hum of
street sweepers echo down the block where the
young blinged out thugs hold court on the corner with hoes
tricks from downtown roll by as
my chucks stroll down Eddy St toward Market
Obama posters in boarded up windows with For Lease signs
ghetto store owners spray down sidewalks washing down amorality with
syringes, balloons, and used condoms underfoot like
fall leaves in Vermont but we are far from there
and gnarled tooth crackheads will never see those
vivid colors until the Afterlife
there is no recession here or bail out or public option in
the ghetto business is booming
time is measured by space between fixes and
i see all this on my way to find work but don't have time to
feel bad because i have problems of my own


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