"springwood" poems
the screech of brakes
from the garbage truck
the dogs of destiny snapping
at your heels
and the passionate embrace
from endless night,
misery follows you down
springwood avenue
with those nightmares
that can't
sleep
the visions riot in your head
the light of the evening star is fading
The songbird sits on a thin branch
where does the child of countless dreams run to?
Feb 1, 2022
Feb 1, 2022 at 9:32 PM UTC
there's something beautiful
about tall buildings
and a dark street,
the vacant restaurants and stores
the drive-throughs
on their way to work
don't see it
don't feel you
don't hear your voice of desperation
or the screech from the garbage trucks
brakes
there's something beautiful
on the corner
of Dewitt and Springwood Ave
where there were dances
at the bingo hall,
the fist fights outside
and angels
with their eyes
whispered,
come hither,
and giggled softly
and with voices
like rain
and with a touch of regret
sang all the sad songs
I hear
the ghosts of Springwood and Dewitt
wailing
in search of hope or a prayer
or perhaps it's just the police
or an ambulance
there's something beautiful
about you,
dark avenue
of crossroads
where the hanged men are dump
and shotgun in my hands
i'm going to run down
that avenue of dead dreams
the revolution is at hand
Feb 26, 2024
Feb 26, 2024 at 1:33 PM UTC