Look at what passes
For insulation
'gainst a life of beating rape
and crushed dreams.
An eerie children's choir of young adults
too short for liquor
the cabinet's not
reachable.
drifts softly and echoes.
beside brown pale bricks
not yet grimed with dirty
secrets to hide.
the floor aquamarine
sanitary.
a place to heal that never
had an ounceof
antibiotics
let alone
prevention.
It's oh so sanitry in the
suburban solutions
that save
nothing.
and I hear
a child
crying.
will this be a triumph
then.
that
Daddy's not here
not drunk
not mad.
not waving the chord above
his head in anger against
a futile life that fucked
him up.
and
now
me.
Or am I safe from mommy's
new crac boyfriend.
and
his
cock.
Let this be the refuge of all
half-caste outs into the cold
light of a night sky.
A city's forgotten childhood.

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