city editor

steel cable wire bridge,
skyscraper
 
in heaven’s reach, but not
a god
 
nor a newspaper editor,
nor was the city his,
 
yet he owned them in black and white
 
sent out bow—tied reporters, some, 
in dress and heels
 
both to snoop with half blind eyes,
to dig up dirt
 
dirt to be later used in a cemetery,
coffins in earth
 
bones lie still
 
with pencil and flip pad, they wrote 
about lives they broke
 
plaster—work in condemned buildings,
old painters forgotten
 
once a story in a by—line, blacked ink,
memories dried out
 
old newspapers to the homeless, keep 
somewhat warm
 
city editor had a heart affection for a 
fledgling female newshound
 
she played his emotions, climbed the
corporate ladder
 
she had no sympathy, her slender body 
made him weak in the knees
 
outside, slender concrete monuments 
rose from cement sidewalks
 
to form ladders to the clouds, to the
place upstairs
 
angular shadows formed, adept at hiding
disdained faces
 
simplified begging like poor children 
wanting some sleep
 
all walk with the masses, or get swept 
down storm drains 
 
rain water runs backwards down 
metal grates
 
she is now co-editor, entwined in his life
 
he leaves behind the mrs.
he leaves behind the kids
 
new consummated love, awning of
the bizarre
 
voluptuous vibrations wrapped up
his feelings good and tight
 
throw of the loaded dice
 
her sports writer boyfriend, same paper,
fingers crossed
 
in a small, steamy delicatessen, slips
one city editor a mickey 
 
he stumbles outside, pale colour, walks
in a soft, wet, lumpy manner
 
gets hit by a metered running, yellow cab
 
with nerve, adulteress wears black
she wears black heels
 
at his grave site
 
the deceased’s wife suspicious, murder?
 
paper is the fabric of an intricate city
as is bread and water
 
to black and white uniformed inmates
 
girlfriend, boyfriend now write on black
and white ink
 
prison publications
 
jilted wife now sits behind a city 
editor’s desk…
 
 
Copyright © 05/13/2013 Ðark Ṝoasted Ƣoetry®
Image
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