Dumpsters in back alleys huddle,
dumb, dank, dirty, dark,
depressing, dull.
Cinders carpetbomb the byways.
Sin, hope, despair, righteousness
number the quick among the lame,
numb the promise of identity and
name,
humbler each season. Lost
opportunities
hummm like the broken winds that
accompany
mumblers in their gutter, hookers
and hawkers, preachers at their pulpit.
Mums and gladiolas shine on
windowsills -- shameless exhibitionists.
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