A Rainbow Flash in Monochrome

Part one: The White Collar Parade 

The smell of money on them

More pungent than liquor

Their suits, creaseless

Neatly folded like bank notes

from a robbery

An army of uniforms;

The white collar parade

Filtering in and out of

the cobbled chaos

I try to dodge them all

Bullet through the air

Without a care

A rainbow flash

In monochrome

~

Part two: The City that Coughs You up and Spits You out 

Each day, I pass the homeless man by

Just one of many

In the city that coughs you up

And spits you out

Little does he know

I’ll be leaving this place for good

Packed up and fed up,

Dragging my career behind me

We exchanged a glance

But no words

His sky blue eyes looked up at mine;

Pained and questioning

I walked on, like I always do

Wondering who was feeling more sorry for who

The Hospital Room

Time ticks;

A fragile and volatile bomb

You count the seconds pass

And wonder where they’ve gone

Meanwhile the distant and burning

Stars of outer space

Explode

Into particles of golden dust

Giving human life their trace

Stretched over a vast landscape

Of cells and membranes

The pain of birth contained you

Curled up in utero

But you broke forth too soon

Pale and premature

Watched by the expectant eyes

Of the hospital room

A small and tangled up

Bloodied ball of flesh

Craved the comfort

of womb and breast

Covering with baby hands

Its own eyes from the light

Sleep-full and yearning

To fight for its life