Skid Row

Flickering tiny flames 

In the endless cold of 

Black space

 

Lost souls drowning in a sea of delirium

Muttering, shuffling like 

Confused, aimless strays

Whining, laughing hyenas 

That tear at everything

To whom everything’s game

The city swallows them and 

Vomits them up like refuse

Like empty mollusk shells

That fall onto the dirty floor

Before they are gathered up and

Thrown out the back door.

Reviews

[FGFRANKLIN]

An interesting piece of social satire directed at the homeless. An estimated population of today's Skid Row is between 5 and 8 thousand homeless people living in a tent city on the streets. About 36% of those are substance abusers. Around 28% are suffering some form of mental illness. But just nine miles away in Beverly Hills the living is large.

[J.P.]

Dude,
Sound writing and choice words!
I read/pronounced "tear at everything" in my mind like tear drop. A perfect homonym of anger and sadness.

[Dave Brown]

A truly sorry situation with too many of them in our area, picking up knives on their way out.
Mental health ever more of a problem

[andrew mitchell]

Couldn’t quite help thinking of the homeless and the underbelly of a city. Well written, a pleasure to read Laz.

[emmajoygreen]

Such powerful sensitivity in your words, Laz. Mankind's past and present has ever been apt to abuse or/and decry the poorand wretched shoved out of sight people in this world. Yet those same mocking critics laud those in high places looking down their noses. Black space, indeed - reminds me of the concentration camps where the other unwanted died in their millions. Your five empathetically considered stanzas deserve far more attention.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

geez, Laz..I wish I had written your fourth stanza here.
I read your writing and feel like one of those empty mollusk shells, with a dried up pen.
j.