December evening likens to the howl

On a mucky April night just after

A snowfall; treading of light traffic

Turning what was once a virgin

To a brazen curse depicted scowl

Out of the depth of concrete to the rafters

You can hear a fallowed scream horrific

The whir of sirens where all ends and begins

It is the guardian who judges the foul

Or the right, their course never alter

Just the city trending the land gothic

The vamp and witch cast out the Puritans

The thundering rhythm of the bowel

Shutters the glass turns neon to glitter

Pulsates through these garish halls of brick

And in moments there’s nothing left to your hearin’.

59

There is in the mind

Arisen of the salty brine

The nature of things to come

In the view of all things slum

To ponder such beauty

From this deck so squalid

To view the engorgement you enjoy

And see my presence to share

It is a reflection that answers

The feeling once repulsed

We have grown, we have grown