Nightmares sprout wings
And gargoyles sing
operatic dirges
To the sensitive ones
Red neon sinners
wriggle and writhe
In oil slick puddles
That stain squalid streets
The lost the runaways
The despondently confused
Wander this labyrinth
Where the rain never ceases
She passes by
Ms. Late Model Luxury
A call on her cell
Wrong turn she’ll be late
Someplace else
She’d wind up dead
Pieces of herself
collected as trophies
This lethargic cesspool
Lacks such motivation
Gutters collect waste
The unwanted unwashed
Pain turned inward
Voices berate
Needles in veins
Fetid whores to cruel men
Nightmares sprout wings
And the boy on the sidewalk
Finds hope in the thought
They will fly someplace else
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