The City Is A Constant Moment

The city swallows death.

Angels
Chalked onto frozen sidewalks
Jerk tears from despondent onlookers.
Their pain quickly recedes
Into the circadian rhythms of the city:
Lull,
Movement,
Lull,
Movement.
People moving,
Flowing past
A young boy looking
To puff pot with panhandlers
Wretched up by the city
Who shake their cups
At the indifferent flow:
People-watching entertainment
For Yuppies stranded at their CPUs
Staring
Down
At the old and cold.