Wednesday, November 30, 2005

a tale of two cities (in two parts)

part one

in a room over looking a city
that holds no remorse
street corner proteges
sell all they've got
an urchin in rags rings a bell
as the snow falls
it's business as usual
hold all of my calls

streetlights and indigo blue
turns the pages
a few blocks away a trash can fire
that rages on
and huddled around or a sleep on the ground
are the hundreds of maritime street demons
celebrating a days spoils with newsprint duvets
and the food from the corners of mouths
that which was expendable
not necessarily that which was needed

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