Underpass Escape
by Odin Roark

With muggers and murderers at work,
we often felt like we were living a “Clockwork Orange” dream,
even as our hands molded predators out of mud and cardboard,
smashing them flat when playtime was over.

A cat and two mongrels kept us warm at night
as we huddled in our refrigerator box.

Then there were…

The times we would venture out and find people willing to part
with a few coins, a dollar here and there,
enough for some food. Tears became common.

We’re just lost teens in a hell never dreamed of,
yet, fortunately having never been made to watch the underpass slaughter of homeless,
drunkards, and even other teens, all in the name of pure hate and misunderstanding as the weapons.

On many an occasion, we had to watch our nighttime warmth and cooing feathered friends scatter as life beneath an underpass became such a hell’s rehearsal that...

Such a dark escape was not what we counted on.