Poem: Rain In The Streets

This poem appeared very recently in Poetry Friends (poetryfriends.blogspot.com). This is how I FEEL about life, one of my many sides, anyway. OWL 

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Rain In the Streets 

everywhere stripped-down gargoyles. 

a thirsty cubism of the grotesque. 

prophecies slicken the apathy of tar,

buff a phalanx of windshield frowns. 

and yet the teardrop-warnings reap only scorn.  

wheels scoot away,

wrangles of rubber and locked horns of iron. 

the almost-invisible commuters shrivel to fret,

hunkered down in line-laden algebras,

 afraid of the freedom in the sky.

 

could it remind them, the rain, of their own pulse?

the music of censored heartbeats?

so many secret desires,

as prolific and ignored as rain,

they gush down into buried pipes, 

babbles of hope that feed nothing:

dead ends, paper trails, time clocks, 

the rooting snouts of money. 

 nothing at all.

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