Urban Dreading, a Prose Poem

Building that has been nearly demolished

Driving around the city block I visit Jamaica and Cuba and Ghana and Niger. The beauty of the old and strong wrestles intangibly with the ruins of the weak and cheap. Others see lost sheep to be shuttled back to another pasture. I see shimmering souls starving for a sense of meaning and belonging in a new place filled with safety. If only the coal that singed my lips would clear the clouds from my eyes and mind and heart. Corporate wolves lasciviously eye profit and margin and finance. All I see are people needing love and warmth and embrace. Has a great Democratic Republic utopia become a dystopian regime built on slavery to that which doesn’t matter?