gutters

the crows smile. a murder, and two, and three, but the crows smile.

rain seeps into the foggy newspaper; of black nights and missing black women, sins blaring through the city; police sirens wailing, babies wailing, funeral processions wailing.

san francisco is on fire tonight.

the flames lick and lust, charred flesh and jealousy, the hijab cannot snuff out this inferno. but the hijab can speak. the hijab can incriminate. the hijab, and the convenience of a discriminated suspect. the hijab, and the death sentence.

neon lights, flickering, flickering.

he beams at her lone silhouette; a dissolving pill and beer pitchers, dazed slurring and torn clothes. morning, mourning, mourning; hangovers and unfamiliar genitals. there is only so much she can do. there are only so many tears left.

hymn, hymn, humming into the skull.

the cassock slips off the unholy shoulders; oh father, forgive yourself, for you have sinned. he is but a child; you, him. your fingers caress forbidden places, god is displeased. god is stoking his hell for you.

gutters, gutting, gutted, guts.

the city pours itself in; broken shoes, empty vodka bottles, filthy and cruel. sewage, wager on our doom, wages and the daily, we are crows crowing.

we smile. a murder, and two, and three, but we smile.

#poetry #poem #poet #prose #ugly #raw #church #destruction #sinners