candycox

I couldn't sleep. So I got up and wrote a poem. This one is somewhat dark, but hey, that's the mood I'm feeling at the moment.


walk through desolation 7-16-05

the alley is grimy,
silent,
vacant,
exposed like naked skin
under the restless
roaming of my eyes.
it reeks of lonely lives
led by empty people,
littered with the ruins of self-destruction
and even greedier delusions.
the bits and pieces of my own torment
seem to be lurking
around every corner, like a somnolent
siren song
luring me to the shadowy netherworlds
of the gutters.
homeless men peel off my clothes
with their ravenous eyes
as i walk down the street,
their lurid catcalls stripping me
bare, exposed,
and shivering
in the wake of my own
mind-numbing afflictions.
my thoughts are as muddled as the
regurgitation of consumerism
in the streets, the oversexed
magazine ads discarded
with the trash, along with the rest
of our reason
and good taste for the future.
amidst the labyrinth, a societal drone
stops me with a brochure
for his church,
are you lost? do you need to be found?
but who is he kidding -
this body has no space for salvation.
im just another pawn
being checkmated
as the sun sets on my own mindless drivel,
ripe and pulsing with deprecating juices,
laying in the gutter
with the rest of the bums
and maggots.