Outside City Hall Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

Scurrying outside city hall to sit by a fountain and write
about all that is seen.

Shadows of a dismal city building fall upon gravelly side-
walks, interspersed with brick tiles, cracked and crooked.

Water from a fountain, spurting into the air - splashing
down everywhere.

Rushing sounds of water, man-made, falling from holes in a
beam across two oblong pillars.

Under water bricks are lying all askew, threatening to give
sprained ankles if walked onto.

Bubbles ferociously gathering into white foam, spreading out,
now a bubble here and there.

Life continues amidst this picture perfect bubble, the city
of Phoenix has created for itself.

Patting itself on the back, because they, themselves deem it
the best run city in the world.

Rubbish, hog talk, through and through. What about all those
people who sleep in front of city hall during the night for
protection from the weather and violent people?

If Phoenix is so well-run, why are homeless people increasing
and abounding?

Could it be they condemned people's houses, took away their
belongings and left them to die in the street under the hot,
Arizona sun?