"Tragedy in Galoshes"

 

Dull lifeless orbs

jammed in spidery craters

eying Asian nectar

anticipating relief

in false prick of promise.

 

God- like as the mindless

in an alley shoots his shot,

just another statistic,

nothing more, nothing less.

 

Abrasive moods

thistle thoughts

conjuring anguish

burning memories.

 

A tragedy in galoshes

shuffling in the dour slush

as the windy city blows

her wintry breath.

 

Down garbage strewn alleys

that harbor the dregs,

of yet another ...

lost generation.

​

-Peter