Posted by Atticus on July 12, 2005, at 14:10:28
Hear the subway wheels squeal
Their clarion call
To pinstriped pimps
Who think they know it all,
To the naked and the dead
On their daily trawl
For alms and survival
Amid the city’s squall,
Splashing through black puddles
Where sacramental blood falls,
And still the trains scream
Sermons meant to appall,
Preach that steel rusts away,
And even skyscrapers bawl
As they drape themselves
In misty cloud-cover shawls
Meant to mark their mourning,
Meant to cast a pall,
A shroud of gray vapor
Draped on granite walls,
For the lives lived among them,
That seem so very small.
poster:Atticus
thread:526742
URL: http://www.dr-bob.org/babble/write/20050621/msgs/526742.html