| James O'Dwyer |
Memorial Under Streetlight
read by james o'dwyer Remember: the drag of grit against shredded skin, our chilled spasms on concrete pillows; we were siblings to cracked paint and the broken windows of orphaned alleys; our tribe hunted under steel canopies, each kill stripped, cleaned, and sold on anew to feed us. Remember: the taste of ozone in the fretting wind as exhausts roared their challenges; our wings were tied to the ground, yet we chased Icarus through traffic lights; we ignored the bright city's aging, tired song and crazed through the streets of our youth. +++ But after the race is done: when hair resembles a sanded down chassis and only time still scars our faces; when the city's slow song is our guide, and the engines of our minds grow cold; when the steel of our limbs rust and our eyes cannot see the road, please, Remember. |