deepundergroundpoetry.com

Dead-End Alley

 
"The end is disgusting," she says, remembering them,
pinched faces in NOLA, grey with wayward inevitability.
No words illuminate this dead-end alley called humanism.


Layered scars blurred their aspirant tattoos,
permanent ink on fleeting lives. "We have a gig tonight!"
Smack needles outranked numen this side of Seventh Ward.


The tracks marked the finish — all points due south.
Death calls shotgun and navigates, every time.
Maps inscribed black on black, but - damn! - the music was good.








Written by Atakti
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 8 reading list entries 1
comments 10 reads 855
Commenting Preference: 
The author encourages honest critique.

Latest Forum Discussions
COMPETITIONS
Today 11:04am by Grace
COMPETITIONS
Today 10:40am by Grace
COMPETITIONS
Today 9:33am by Grace
POETRY
Today 9:32am by Grace
SPEAKEASY
Today 9:09am by Josh
SPEAKEASY
Today 8:38am by Too_hot69