Tuesday, March 17, 2009


Lipstick smudged cigarette butts
Littering the oil stained pavement
Like so many pimples on the face of
A newly pubescent teenager.We pass by, 
Scarcely noticing neglected rubbish,
Carelessly discarded, and soon forgotten.
Beer cans and bottles, the "dead soldiers" of
The "now" generation, lie in the gutter
Awaiting claim by countless denizens, or
The occasional street cleaner.
We are the spirit of carpe diem, with
Little concern for our footprints and no
Vision for the future of our children.  So
Our heels beet a rapid tattoo as we walk
Hurriedly through theses concrete and 
Glass walled canyons, a pilgrimage
In need of a new destination and an exit
Out of darkness.  The question remains:

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