Sweaty and sticky streets with fire

but not of fire, only of heat

that slowly permeates the bones

and sinks not too deeply

but deep enough to settle.

 

Ripped shoes and dirty fingernails

beads of sweat and curling graffiti

pervade and persist. Why not listen?

Stop! The stereo seems to yell.

Enjoy the music I emit and speak.

 

Speak with the others

Speak of past triumphs

Speak of long dreams and impossible fantasies

Speak of everything.

Then stop.

 

And revel in the air.

Allow it to reach out and grasp

Allow it to hold you and last

For the parables of the earth

will catch up to those torn sneakers

And there will be nothing to

keep you above the stench

above the tendrils of plague

that slither and creep

except that air, elusive and free

that makes it all worth while.