Saturday, May 12, 2012

Belly of the Beast

Written in blood (literally)
The persistent staccato of helicopter blades chopping through the air
Carefully watching each step to avoid any piss, vomit, or sh!t (and yes I don’t mean dog sh!t)
The putrid stench of filth and decay that grips you by the throat with every breath
Rats the size of squirrels ferrets tiny cats
Bloody faces busted over petty squabbles
A pregnant, schizophrenic crack-whore
Lost souls leaping off of rooftops in search of a brighter future
The constant wail of sirens blaring
Paramedics chasing victims of too much crack and not enough water
Police in pursuit of their benefactors
Coroners disposing of the waste
Bodies strewn across the pavement like half-dead cadavers
Pure unadulterated havoc and chaos completely run amok

And then there is me.. Roasting hotdogs over a small fire like it’s a friggin’ gourmet meal.

Just another day on Skid Row.

6 comments:

  1. You have a lot of gifts (writing, for example). Don't waste them. I always find it easier to ease my depression by thinking things could be a lot worse in life. I could be living in a third world country, I could be a paraplegic, I could be blind...We are forever changing. Think positive. ;o) 

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  2. Soxandnicole5/13/2012

    What can I do to help? You are in my prayers.

    Love

    Nicole

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  3. Mebane, NC5/13/2012

    Roasted Hot Dogs are the best :)  

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  4. Hells yeah. Nice 'n toasted.

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  5. What a lovely thing to say.  Your continued support is plenty. Thank you, Nicole.

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  6. It is true. We should try and appreciate what we do have. No matter how meager the circumstances may be.

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