Crevices

Scum in the words of scum

The cube’s deranged shadows shed upon the night’s surfaces

Like disoriented cats in a cruel neighborhood’s dumpster.

And when the day breaks over still

To find a loss of hope

As hoodlums scrape away the old man’s pride with dirty hands,

Dirty hands,

Sodden and roofed with wastes that are getting on....

Oh, when the hoodlums get on through the haughty, soiled woman

With far more children than wit,

Then perhaps the vicinity understands

That the world is not quite as much as they thought…

Out to get them

Oh, to get them.

Perhaps then,

And only then,

Will the grimy, dilapidated people feel that it was them

And only them,

That had brought the intact vulnerability.

Yes, vulnerability.

 

Then, maybe, the crevices of roots

Will conceal the poor man without nourishment.

Author's Note

Once again, I take critique as such a great thing. Thanks to all that offer their judgement.

Reviews

[Travis Lawrence]

This reminds me of "The Waste Land". Well put, and it's pretty true too. One thing though, is I think you should help the reader with the rhythm of this by giving it more line breaks. It's nit-picking, but still, that's that advice I would offer. Really good, though.

[Broken.]

I see I see.

Very pretty, like draped silk upon hard english oak.

Lovely, dearest.

[robin]

Whoa are you intense! F#n bravo on the last line, more than a thousand words!
Robin

[Blue Sky]

I like the way this conveyed so sublte
with meaning, makes one ponder upon
how the crevices are filled
or how the void can fill the vulnerable
and that's just my take to your piece
I thought this was an excellent poetry!
like to read stuff that makes me think!

[Legion]

Your wording on this is incredible. I have a sense of degradation with this. It is strange how some lives come to this level. Great work here.