P.S. As The Plane Descends

You have succumbed to filth long enough
owing your memory now to a symmetry
of smog that sticks to my nose
and traffic eagerly reverberating
to be welcomed in days unending

An hour away and you soak me like mad
my sweat borrowing your sewage stench
joining your corrupt and your perverts
my poverty multiplied as I wait endlessly
for the rushed comfort of a 7am ride
my noble dreams of your sanctification
now flushed down your uncovered drains

I now hide skeletons at nightbreak
squeezing salvation from my sins
collected from pre-programmed chores
contemplating fate’s handiwork
as I scrape candles from graves
my favorite dead lighting my way

I have paid you enough homage, dear City
to your walls of war and stones of courage
they were mine once like a bath in the rain
aimlessly pursuing the slipper-sole boats
that clog now your flooded dikes and potholes
my childhood stolen by your crooks
in the sweatshop where I now work

img_0244

P.S. AS THE PLANE DESCENDS

for those hallmark
moments are but
seizures
of humanity
that touch
and go
as severe
flashes
of our exquisite
white deception
building our
belief
structure
called
religion
to please
our souls
even
for
once

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