Creeping along the boulevard

Hanging under derelict street lamps bathing warm cream light

A dead dog was strewn across a gutter

He looks at me from a yellow eye

Abandoned by a faithless friend

I feel stuck in dry sand

Bearing the stench of seven years of unwashed paranoia

Like I always have.

There was a single shot from down the street

A yelp and a shout paced down the road from above

Like a wind in Harlem

Like jagged rocks on a white sand beach

Staring out, broken, unto eternity

Like they always have.

Have you heard the news that they broke through the lines near Sedan?

I would have thought they were all gone by now

Nothing else seems to stick around these days

But they’re still sending people to the camps

Able bodied men to the right

Women and children to the left

Nevermind that, the children go alone

Kind of like they always have.

And taking from one place to another we wept tears of iron

Holding out for something that isn’t real

A mass of bleak and staring eyes

Imploring for some kind of quick salvation

Like the instant gratification of a shot straight to the aorta

A feeling of bare bones scraping across the rocks

Bleached and broken but holding up the world

Just like they always have.



Posted by Wes Laudeman

Writer, hiker, and future teacher, I'm looking for stories and adventures that will last a lifetime.

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