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.
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