Dead Men Walking

Dead Men Walking


Quietly, purposefully centered one tract beings

Walk these streets in the glory of morning

Sun warmed breezes softly blowing

Caress their hair softly without them knowing

Sensually fluffed like a lover come calling


Street troubadour plays sweet violin cup empty

Soul savers duel in their frightening predictions

Repent your sins, tomorrow is the day,  be ready!

Trees sigh blissfully thankful for the movement


Bang! one lying bleeding in the gutter, satchel missing

What the hell! What am I doing on the ground?

Warm, wet, delicious sleepy feeling, calmly

Breeze feels so good on the cooling sweat of neck

Wonder if I’m dying, wonder if anyone will care?

Introspection, more than all last year, the warm

Reassuring fingers stroke his cheek a wet tear slides

cooling down, white rubber fingers slide gently over  his eyes,


He screams waking with a jolt, loving eyes  inquire, all right?

While dead men walking down the street one got lucky

On a chance did he meet himself lying all over the street.


Carl James


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