The Funky Train 4

As peepholes windows rattled on over pot holes,
 In the inner sanctum, dim-light show darkly,
 As prolific pickpockets glimpsed full fat purses;
 With stealthy filty paws to fiddle and fondle inside hot
 pies
 Where hustling market's women chests underwear pouches,
 Raucous kerfuffle flew after razor slashed deep pockets;
 Like the flight of Flamengos
 Dropping on motion, the golden stolen wallet assailant
 vamoose;
 And here, disgraceful disguise faces of nourished notorious
 beggars,
 Glib salesman eulogize marble chalk tablets and
 turpentine,
 To singe one thousand and one sickness,
 And lifeless crowd spilled and shrouded lapsed on the parts
 of poison ivy;
 Thrust-thronged, defacing the emerging showcase of faceless
 skyscrappers,
 Better forgot in the museum of pyramid antiquity,
 And rot on the garbage of yawning-gap memory,
 
 Dark films smoke caked on drooping ill-faded fountain
 Hibiscus,
 Tree-lined traveling barb-wire amid
 Toxic sludge plaster grass on muddy carpeted borderline,
 The prowling beast trailing, triggering machine-gun
 shrapnels and blasts;
 Screaming smoking tires scattered shimmering lights on wet
 avenue,
 Turning bank of orchard blooming in red pomegranate into
 cemetery bay.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2011

Poem

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment

Kendrick Avatar
April 28, 2011 at 9:01 AM
This very descriptive work that seems to be about a street scene where there are pickpocket about then maybe even something more sinister happens maybe even something very violent...Thanks for stopping by and commenting on my work..I can imagine that your father had a very difficult time rearing sixteen children..My father came from a large family like that in that there were eleven children..The reason that we had watermelon was that we grew them..Ice cream was a rare treat..Sara
Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace