4 October 2012
This is part of the Urban Scrawl post
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Fork Glide
Tongue Slide
Curious eyes
walk by walk by
BUT I STOP
Hands in Hands
and eyes on eyes
the urban artery pulses us through
while backpackers fly
BUT I STOP
Camera lens shy
airconditioners hum some
dusty window scum
coffee machines staem
curb side angel muffin dreams
BUT I STOP
I am the urban scrawl hunter
I can hear the bricks chanting and the
skies choirs
coded language on the cobblestone
anecdotal fire flys
swimming through rivers of zombie eyes
Cruising by rusing by running by
BUT I STOP
AND guess what?
from the traces of our beginnings
homo sapien minds
they drew pictures with candlelight
testimonies in caves
Now
we are the age of renegades
and empathies upon empathies
like the bricks of skyscrapers
rise and rise and rise
inside the heart
of the urban scrawl hunter
By Michelle Dabrowski
Takeaway Poetry Service
At Café No 5
January 27 2012
