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Inner City
by
James Shammas
(Age: 48)
copyright 07-07-2005
  
Age Rating: 13 +
Inner City--
chained and splayed on a tray of dope.
I'm it--
Your dope--
crouching,
hanging
from the caverns of the mind
dripping down its side,
acid dripping,
peeling,
blistering,
denuding skin of the mind,
raw white marrow bone of the soul--
yours and mine.
Flayed brain--
aphasic train of thought it came
chugging down the tracks,
derailed,
derailed--
heard it smack--
Watch the tracks!
The third rail,
trailing on happy trails, and on...
...floating freely,
whispered wisps of
cloying clouds
raining red
over screaming entrails,
reek-warmed in the summer sun--
oozing succulent,
the buzzing buzzards bloating over
charmed, discarded laughing carcass!
-- Alas!
-- Charred in purgatorial fire!
Burning, burning bright,
brother bums in slums take flight!--
We, flying through the night,
inner city of the mind ignites,
Oh, Crown of flaming hope in sight!
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