Sin City Street / Haiku Journal 3

02-17-18

Gone to chase a bag
Of shake, this fierce winter night,
Black iced, and unkind,

The winds turn to walls,
Pushing me back with its claws.
Waiting to crosswalk

City street-life weight
Heavy upon the shoulders
Chasing bags of shake.

Why self-crucify
Suffering death’s long walk
Concrete wake, alone

I see the distance
Within me, having no one,
Still shadows don’t care

To self testify
Change will come like dying
Of cold siroccos.

Dark dreams of flying,
Here in the jet blind city
Life feels unlike life...

Seeking brighter tides
From the distance in the pitch
Dark highs, emptiness

Chasing bags of shake
In the distance of deep pitch
Here being beatnik.

Reviews

[sette]

I like the poem it is something unique and fascinating too.