that’s the score (detroit)


we are not safe here
tucked and swaddled in the ghetto
white lilies and holographic franklins
shout concrete and security

but they lied
oh did they lie
and they have been lying all along
without effort

we are all alone
amongst millions
groveling for air freshener survival
electric salvation shimmering
red pop D-town carbonation

painkillers and tall grasses
pitbulls and charter school overload
the edge will not be taken off

tonight four lives orbit black holes
irregular breathing snoring twitching
all south of seven mile
a jagged eminence across the green oven mitten
the crooked cigarette hidden from the baby
the automobiles flying east
lugging along skillful heavy jobs and leaving criminals behind

brains chopped laterally with electricity
held together with shiny static cling
limbs operated without knowing the score
there is no center to this
everything is the center
one imaginary anxiety junkie to another
and another and another

-this poem is featured in Juice


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Filed under poetry, published work

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