The Confessions of a Tagger |
Midnight finds me in an alley Grey and numb, a shadowland Of trash and ice, a dumpster rally Of Smirnoff bottles that the wind Whispers through, recalls the voice Of men with nothing left to lose And moms who say they have no choice And turn from loveless lives to booze. And walls surround me, cinderblocks With nothing but the stains to say. I could just run; I could throw rocks. But that wouldn't wash this place away. I shake my can. I shake so hard The colors surge before my eyes. My heart is where the dragons are. My fury guards the butterflies. A jet of blue, diffused by wind Hits dead cement. A child’s eye Is born beside the garbage bin. I teach the cinderblocks to cry. A face in shades of blue and black A portrait? No, oblique outline. But anyone who comes out back Will see their child’s face in mine. And paint streams down my frozen skin. A kindred pulse outside my vein. And where the voiceless wall has been, My freehand testament of pain Rebels against the status quo The systems and the great excuse, The cancer that is urged to grow. The madness that is running loose. And daylight finds me in an alley Grey and numb, a shadow man. Adding to this dumpster rally The triumph of an empty can. 36 lines. |