Sheepish man standing vertical in

the rain; frog’s legs frying-up nicely

in a greased iron skillet – no longer

needed in the Amazon Forest.

Some kind of solitude is being

measured out in a city cab as his

fare OD’s in the back – suicide

jumper hits the windshield.

Passerby’s walking in slow motion

Insensitive to the predicaments that

are unfolding like the plot in a five

and dime store mystery novel.

Childlike Salvation Army person

rings the bell as the rain accounts

for most of the kettle’s profits; she’s

too busy being innocent; gets mugged.

Jack knife from a sweaty hand tossed

into a dead-end dumpster  - leaves the

victim as they allegedly bleed to death

Just another name in the Time’s obits.

A cold, lonely homeless man ‘third rails’

his life – family, work, country all turned

their backs; inside his overcoat, love

letters, like him, go to the afterlife.

Dirty cops who couldn’t wash their

hands fast enough stand before an

Internal Affairs tribunal – who, what

why, where, when, and how leeched out.

Two-bit whores with painted faces

moonwalk on the sidewalk – like to

rock and roll until they do the dead

man’s float in the river at age 14.

The day ends, all the city’s inhabitants

head for the building that has a 13^th floor

Line forms to the leftist – elevator operator

“Keep your bodies inside, just want your souls.”

‘2009’ RLS