Street Roots • March 13-19, 2015
Street Poetry
Page 14
Tomorrow
By Ron Sanford
Tomorrow’s dreams lie across the river
Where nobody cares to make sense of them.
We live for.today.
Those unmonitored senses which we labeled,
Now we can see in a new, fresh and bold way.
Once we find time to forage through the landfills,
We will be reminded of why
We didn’t document anything
In the first place.
Untitled
By Mr. Man
My eyes-have seen the light
. but my heart belongs to darkness
introducing souls to their maker
but never meeting mine.
Was the pay worth the pain
I was following orders, he was just a
xhild. Kill or be killed, the old motto goes.
Was it all for nothing? Does the devil
own my soul? I can ask for forgiveness,
idle chatter. The razor cuts the
flesh...Am I dead? Nope, still have
a job to do. Physical pain trumps mental.
Snap out of it, we are a long way from
home. Ah...back to work. “Tango at
6 o’clock going hot.”
Strange
Coincidence
By Mike Vance
Toys and tattered clothes
soaked in urine and rain
strewn down the sidewalk
like Hansel and Gretel’s breadtrail
down the grid to the steel grate
where destinations trickle down
to the aqueduct in a stream of tears
Faces echo the tarnished glow
back to the concrete and bricks
with the voice of a hungry stare
screaming for light before dawn
One day and
a million more alike
The pigeons land here
claim their spill
and fly to the roof tops
to shitbomb pedestrians
into submission
as the white and green ooze
splashes in your
mother’s latte
the shell’s shock and
other such tales
By j. mccurdy
I was too busy
writing history down
o n ...
hand m e down
napkin notes
to notice
- t h e shell shock
in the mirror
or the smoke
rising like
surrender flags
in the tendrils
of my hair