The Streets Today

Not all scars are worn on the outside. Warning: Visceral imagery ahead...

The streets look mighty good to me today.
Kestrels circumambulate ribbon-like obsidian currents while shrieking their hunting cries in hi-fi bass. Rodents scurry to and fro; seeking refuge from the 9mm talons that rain down like the monsoon.
Pop-pop-pa-pop-pop--BANG!
But the streets look mighty good to me today

Immense caverns of refuse exist between sequoias of stone and glass. In many of these caves, dwell the modern neanderthal; freezing and bleeding rivulets of cheap wine while dreaming of glorious opportunities passed by. Or, just never had. Even here, in this haven of dung, mercifully mercurial streaks of transfiguration---zz-zh-zh-zsss-zzzzzing through. Agents of the ultimate evolution.
Pop-pop-pa-pop-pop--BANG!
But the streets look mighty good to me today

Sanguinous streams flow through the throbbing, aching heart of town and flow into an ocean of tears that constantly sweeps over me; feeding it's wishy-washy denizens on the fetid flesh of dreams, sweeping them away in a crimson tide to finally drown with a
Pop-pop-pa-pop-pop--BANG!
But the streets look mighty good to me today

Majestic peaks pierce the heavens. Ziggurats, not a mile away, but I've never seen them. They are obtenebrated by acrid, acerbic, clouds that hang ponderously overhead; tinting the sky with a russet hue. At these Olympian heights, the pampered dine on those below; drinking deeply of the finest vintage. An elixir made from the sweat of the oppressed, who fall at their indirect bidding.
Pop-pop-pa-pop-pop--BANG!
But the streets look mighty good to me today

I germinated here under sepia skies, rooted in the poisoned soil of the valley; absorbing the viscous animosity of the streets. I once served at the Shrines of Greed, Ignorance, Sloth and Violence--A devoted acolyte. I clawed my way across a continent only to be entombed here under those Tarnished Arches of broken backs with tiny beasts nibbling at my toes! I look back--only to find a wannabe Taco peddling ankle biter, gorging on the ground remains of what were my BEST friends!
ALL these things; I left behind
All these THINGS; I left behind
All these things I left BEHIND with a
Pop-pop-pa-pop-pop--BANG!
But you know...
The streets look mighty good to me today...

Author's Note

Yes, I am aware that semicolons are not used that way. This piece is meant to be spoken faster than bullets and I tried to convey that with atrocious grammar. Points for onomatopoeia, right?

Reviews

[Kenneth The Poet]

Mind-blowing rhythm, expansive vocabulary, dense and lush imagery, a vivid, dare I say vivacious piece that fits well into the experimental realm of prose and poetry. A stunning, glorious piece of work.

[Kaylor Mason]

Wow . . . if this piece really is about you nd your life--and it sounds like it is--then you have my whole heartfelt respect, just for getting out of there alive. I was lucky; the violence I faced in my youth was--looking back on it now--merely schoolyard crap most guys would laugh at; nothing compared to this. On a more technical note, this poem is excellent. I travelled into Chicago once, got to go up into the Sears Tower. While going around that city, I remember driving through a section of town where the hair rose up on my neck and I got the message: "You don't belong here." Needless to say, I floored the gas pedal the whole way and left rubber on the road as I got the hell outta that place. Reading this made me remember that incident.