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Poem

A lost monopoly game
Williams fright, bridge, faith
and urban blight, Williamsburg.

Soot gray and brick red
the buildings stand
slumped, shrouded
death in the abundance
of vacant buildings.

Waste strewn sea
of asphalt, concrete, and urban dreams.
Cracks housing cigarette butts
form paper chains at the bases
of forlorn locust trees.

Sickly trees, popping from between
wrought iron barricades spiked manmade thorns
an Appleseedian affectation of defiance
toward a city of cave dwellers.

Doors, blind, windowless..no eye out or in..
unwelcoming entries..present
surfaces flat, color-chip palettes
for the graffiti “artist” latest spray painted
monstrosity
“ahhhhhhhhhh urban art!”

Two story warehouse walls writhe
their surfaces adorned 
with an effluence of madness? grafetti....
Throw backs with paint tubes? 
Or Jackson Pollacks with aerosol cans?

Sunday mornings only human grace;
bagel bitters, their sideburn squiggles
the only reassuring reminder of the reverent.
Their continuing presence 
these Hasids with prayer shawls dangling
these monochromatic breathes of fresh air
present as the only harbor of safety, sanity, 
as a lost girl child returns to her native
Brooklyn.

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