in the after noon, at around 2 PM ,
the slit of the out-of -order windowpane,
brought, heat, dust and a gasoline’s stench.
crossly exchanges in the street corner,
cawing crows on electric crisscrosses,
down the crass,weary sidewalks,
the far-off, old cross, slanting in silence
listening to jarring, blaring horns,
when busty women crossed the road,
in the aftermath of a past night’s rage.
a stagnant creek’s fishy reek hushing
the grinds of the squeaky old cot.
guilty blemishes finding lame excuses,
through your sweat, lust and melt.
the pangs of my despair,
defused by the fangs of your shameless desire;
the walls of the dim chambers, stained by
your graffiti , recklessly smeared
on the buried barricades of my bared vulnerability,
with a dogged vengeance.
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