SLAM!

"Invalid Item"   by A Guest Visitor

At the tip of the Empire State Building crouch cultured gargoyles.
Wings of folded stone, they paint the sky,
ignoring the city,
easily balancing
easels and economics
on wintry winds.

Paved with cold stares
and suspicious lies,
streets anchor humanity;
arteries streaming with
greed, power, and lust,
pumping polluted politics
and paychecks- up,
past the pungent layer of
smog.

Genuine gold, stolen from caution lights, charges their brushes.
Wings of folded stone, they wash the sky in color,
ignoring the noise
of traffic and train, plucked away
on the vibrating string
of their palette.

And the people too, are
oblivious, occupied, accidental
citizens, mesmerized by
their own mental missives;
searching skyward
for sunny solutions, yet
blocked by the billowing
smog of smug.

On high, statues wait, brushes poised for that delicate, magical moment when the sun drops behind the horizon line, to exclaim, “Ah, yes!”
Wings of folded stone, they varnish the night,
Ignoring sounds and smells,
easily managing,
to separate light and hope
from the evil city

... and paint it in the sky

for us all.


Zoo - Salted and Roasted
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