Graffiti Prayers

iconoclastic, aortic valves.. toppling through stone nerves seperate the steel brow, the cement tongue and holy mother from her child. yet still the public squares give birth, doing a little more with the willing. see the skinny ones wander. all those holy incarnate youth who highlignt the shadows at night with their dark hooded coats. some have pockets filled with tin saviors, some condoms and some ciggerett's. shake, shake, rattle and shake. robotic graffiti filled fist poured out like liquid prayers forgives a few of the more common spaces. ugly bertha with her iron curtain veiled about her spray painted in rich angelic colors refuses to remain silent any longer. unvielling her aged face, revelling the gray mortered lines who crippeled so many. ugly stomped out bertha crumbling naked into every public square. she cry's a little from her unsentimental paved skin. all those sterile cinderblocks baptised and forgiven with the rattle of a tin can. tagged and made holy under the lamplights with shades of citron and bright orange.