(untitled) -- a collection of experimental poetry [COMPLETE]

glowing green cross

after Alexander Block

the slums
the ghetto
the concrete jungle
the roughest part of the city
where the people aren't
people
but shuffling hoods
and suspicious
gazes
and coats and jackets
and sweatsuits
but never people
no people
just shadows

shadows
containing tainted
flesh

a green cross
a glowing green cross
flashing, twirling, blinking
an electrical oasis,
luring in the
unsuspecting prey
like an epoxy resin
anglerfish encased
in aluminium bricks

the green cross
glows,
but the pharmacy's already
shut
boarded up
rolled down
and locked,
all the walls
are covered in
street tags
and spray-paint,
aerosol glyphs
of urban despair
made by the
artist with the
asphalt skin
the trashcan bones
and streetlight
eyes illuminating
their eerie homeland
of closed curtains
and closed shutters
and closed eyes
forever closed
now that their
heart has become
an affordable
storage solution
for a bullet
belonging
to a handgun.