Raw

Slipshod and raw
pink faces in the early light
It’s murder out here on wet pavement
and blood runs through the grooves
in the cobble-stone beat signs
pointing to better destinations

    or warning us: Don’t walk
    and then like a schizoid maniac
    now you’d better walk before
    I change my mind again

Green reminded us of nature
but now it just means get the hell out
quickly, too, since the day will soon
turn to dead red and
you best stop before the cold hard
night falls over your pedestrian head

    and it’s blood and frustration
    watch it spill out its flashing drops
    surrounded in sodium light
    red red red I told you so red

The grime sticks to you and
gets inside your nose coating slick
and soot gets into corners of eyes and nails
empty places where skin used to be
They good-bye you and sell you for
a 30% mark-up if they’d could

    and I would too, since I’m
    no better. Don’t ever forget
    that in every person beats the
    red blood heart of a baby cold
    killer that sucked nine months
    from its mother’s wound

Leeches still, slime and full of sharp
teeth in the shape of keys to SUVs
and brownstones or condos
waiting for the call, the beginning
of the feeding frenzy, the smell of
blood would set them upon us

    and we’re so vulnerable splashing
    around here happy wolves after
    the hunt, our prayers fell
    so easily and we were so hungry

Drop every luscious drop
dripping wastes away life that we could use
but in our desire to satiate our eternal
need for more we let it go
crimson first then black
toothless and de-clawed and most vicious slipshod
and worthless and most precious and lost

1999 © Jonathan Russell