Friday, February 10, 2012

Atlanta Upside Down

there's a strong ray of sun reflecting off the windows
of 20 million dollar buildings
wearing seventeen dollar shoes
it shines on the busy street
six inches deep in sunlight
there are no statues, just moving bodies
and post-modern sculptures, altars to our impatience
as the whores wait in hotel rooms
waiting for the sun to set
peeking through curtains, praying for the policemen
and the church steps are the trailer parks
with mobile home shopping carts
lining walls and industrial air-conditioning units
as the transit system herds its cattle
north to south, south to north
shouting commands in broken language
and foreign language, at that
as it shouts to the world above,
"you are a world upside-down"
and, upside-down it is,
where the dogs are strictly un-nomadic
where the sky holds color
bright greens and dull grays
and cost is always counted
piece by pennied piece
as the governor's kids sleep soundly, thirty miles away
full of stolen wine
complaining, when they wake
about the temperature of their milk
though, the whores complain as well
with the pimps and the police
with the priests and the preheats
with the vagrants and the heroin addicts
they complain about how no one wants to really save them
only to sell to them some hydrating soap
to wash off all of the sunshine

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