Stench (standard:poetry, 214 words)
Author: Spinal Remains	Added: Aug 13 2002	Views/Reads: 2865/2	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
A Tri-State hell on Earth.

Winding roads meet up 

With the foul stench in the air. 

This is New York...New Jersey... 

A Tri-State hell on Earth. 

Rats munch on what's left of 

A pigeon that could no longer 

Stand to associate with humans, 

And inside those maroon guts 

I can see a little of myself, 

My own loathing 

For a species I am forced 

To call my own. 

Walking down St. Mark's Place 

I do a little soft shoe 

To dodge the brainless punks 

With orange mohawks 

And green liberty spikes, 

As they mosh with strangers 

To the Aus Rotten in their heads; 

I have to wonder 

What "liberty" those spikes stand for 

If they can't even free their minds 

From a song they don't 

Even own the CD for. 

The light flickers in the window 

Of Trash and Vaudville 

As I stare wondering 

What the two have to do 

With each other. 

Across the street a girl 

Has Religious Sex with 

A new skirt she could never 

Possibly fit in to; 

But who am I to judge 

Her skany, fat a$$? 

I walk away from this 

Silent festival of freaks 

And geeks trying to be cool, 

Or just frighten their parents, 

Past Ricky's and the Fun House, 

Wondering how metal 

That dry cleaner's used to be. 

Copyright 2002


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