Treasure Island

jerome moore


Alley littered with Yesterdays news


hanging on the high brow off urbans nocturne,
Impotent bowels weigh down the boulevard,
there is too much shit with no place to go.

how it stinks

Boulevard
has its dirty mouth, no clean clothes, and a taste for liquor
Boulevard
Has no job, and a hangover that leaks when it storms,

Decency is rotting under milk crates with the rest of them.
The harlequin all meet on the corner cafe
ready to eat up your baby dolls,
oh what sad girls walk up and down the boulevard.

Spotlights show vermin through projector still screens,
chalk white bone painted caricatures on alley walls.
By day its worse,
dried up like a desert.

In the glass the flash bulbs
hold this city captive,
under lock and key
and the alleys
are littered with yesterdays news

Submitted: Wednesday, October 24, 2012
Edited: Thursday, November 08, 2012
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