Dark city

No one in an alley, and nothing, nothing but blackwater,
Blackwater over rails and cobble, mainline to poverty;
Somewhere at the end of it, gangs throng,
Squeezing the dark into your mind, cut you with a blade,
Blood squandering on their fingers. Wrestle with
Your money, footfalls to shadows in a doorway.
The victim falls to the worm in an earth hook,
Theirs is the only voice protesting in a warm laid grave.

Overhead, black clouds clapping, boisterous wind,
Hard down on the city. Deluge of rain
Slapping window panes; quenching the thirst of gutters,
The rash smart sloggering pour.
Beating and beating on the asphalt ground,
Storm drains to a siphon. I was under a roof without
A rent, followed the path of the homeless here,
Drank water dripping from a ceiling, uttered a prayer.

The only thing to come now is the light,
Not a day dazzle nor darkened recompense.
On my knees, prayed for a day spring to the dimness of me,
Heaven, the word of, words by and by,
Let it ride like a dice roll; dispatched and have done
With its doom here; lower than death, shoot
The vein for the visiting. Let my last
Breath be penitent fetched from the Gideon book.

Copyright © 12/15/17 lance sheridan®

NP Dark city

11 comments on “Dark city

  1. Barbara says:

    Lance this is a powerful poem providing this reader images of what “true” reality is, this writing fits the description of “reality” at its best – I’d rate this excellent!

  2. Barbara says:

    Thanks Lance – Your writings are excellent & great!!

  3. Polly says:

    Brilliant. Beautiful yet stark, your images are compelling as ever.

  4. Watch the 1937 film “Dead End” sometime. You’ve captured precisely the hopelessness it depicts…an attitude all too real on inner city streets.

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