Desperate Escapes

Desperate Escapes By Odin Roark They see only what they need, That desire to see beyond The heat and squalor, The effrontery to their species' senses, These sentient beings whose 2nd bedroom Remains the fire escape. How haunting The mangy dog sniffing the gutter below, Ribs needing something besides vanishing hair To protect his fragile existence, His pride long gone Like the optimistic glow of a downtrodden eye Slowly closing in the darkness of lost hope. Yet… Somehow the animal survives, Knows no ring-of-battle towel to throw, Not ropes to hang upon, No round bell of ending to depend upon. We contemplate… High above TV antennae sway precariously, Moon's glow the spotlight, This era of cable Beyond reach, HD a dream for many, Rabbit ears struggling to survive Yet another era of poverty. For such mutual survivors, Resting on window sills, Splayed on cast iron escapes Atop pillow and laundry, The square screen offers fantasy survival, Providing dreams in the bed-of-hope Even though void of reality, Their innocence clinging, They survive greed's harsh weapons, Enduring further nights of longing, Endemic to cookie-cutter imitations A grandiose Manhattan perpetual struggle, Syria's, Athens', Perhaps even tomorrow's utopia. When does the glad hand of deception disappear The reach of power's greed meet its end? To talk, To negotiate, To be human, Some believe Remains futility's endowment. Never perhaps an epiphanies’ platform, But fire escapes, stairwells and rooftops around the world Will always afford relief for the moment, Trusting someday There will be No need For such painful dreaming… Such desperate escapes.