the city mob

na.

the dead eyes frighten

when the secret held by many

has already seasoned the crowd

now fed up with everything &

dead set with nothing left to lose

out in the street where they know

deep in their hearts

that the only sense of justice

that they’ll ever attain

will come from striving together

against what doesn’t respect them

against what doesn’t value their existence

against what has to fall &

what will inevitably fall---

for the secret on their lips

which they may whisper together now

while amassing in the street,

is one from which the rest believe that they are

immune,

but it is the last true verse left to be uttered by a sane

individual & it doesn’t abide by critics or editors or

authoritarian tyrants who look about the rest of us with

manufactured smiles concocted from blood/dirt on their

unwashable hands with contempt for our very

lives.