Painters’ Exhalations 20

Painters’ Exhalations 20

-after Mario Sironi’s The Suburbs
a poem by Felino  Soriano           

Relaying population has dissipated,
heads of dust on a swiping rag. Man rarely
crawls here and children run only
in the advent of motherly lamps
lighting specific landscapes. Giant
train relegated to speeds of
non-ambulation
atop the wilting tracks
positioned with clandestine purpose.
Life of employment stricken with disease.
Windows of pristine buildings
echo eyes whose passion to continue
openness is gouged by the sharpened
thumbs of monetary absence. The shade
of death hangs in the limp
light creating shadows on this section
of earth. On knees bloody from
constant lack, the body cannot thrust,
live where moments of pleasure
refuse to visit, even briefly.

~ by jwoodall on February 12, 2009.

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