notte

Today I took some pictures that didn't turn out so hot. It was quite disappointing. Here is a poem I've been working on:

Witness (in progress)

the chuches on broadway glitter in neon lights
that echo dark catholic hums that you can cash in
for heroines on heroin anyday of the week.
They shoot up and make noise.

There is one good resturant and a bar
that, try as though they might, they cannot
wipe away the boredom that has spewed these streets
from the death of chief joseph, back in the late 1960's.

hey dad, you said to me crossing the street holding my hand,
does it ever stop raining?
and son, i said it will stop raining the moment empty churchs
stop ringing bells on sunday mornings.

he was too young to know the difference
I took out a smoke and he asked me to stop.