Turning his head skyward, he breathed in
the smoke and residue of the cannabis
Slowing, he turned to me in askance
inviting me to suggest my approval
which I dare not.
Enervated, I looked groundward
pushing the smoke from my lungs
willing the smell of soft drugs
to dissapate from this place.
A British newspaper called here
the last great deal in the capital city
ignoring the evictions and perpetually
late buses, and the children
they who run the streets like unfettered
rats--a pestilence to those who mind their
actions and exclamations of swear words
which come to them as a second nature
And yet, all is not lost here.
This is no Sodom or Gomorrah.
Just a forgotten place
No need to run with Lot and pray to not look back
When the girl at the aging Safeway
can still declare love for a man who is not
"Bad, as some men here can be"
I remember that for all its imperfections
here is home and not a bad place to be.