Lake and Halsted…

and i walk in early morning hours…trains run throughout the night overhead with sparks flying off rails…brakes screaching…neon flashes and spins…flashes and spins…

in darkness Gabriel blows his horn …watching cops cruise Lake and Halsted…below a sign saying FRESH KILLED LAMB…this lamb slaughtered by man with spikes on wood…spikes on wood…

nailed to a cross for the everlasting love of junkies…speedfreaks…crackheads…whores…men in the streets askin’ for a buck or two…while all of Babylon falls from grace… Chicago too…

one sign says LIVE NUDE GIRLS…’cross the street is Windy City Labor…poor blacks and poor whites will be linin’-up soon for the daily slave market…hopin’ to get picked…hopin’ for a check to cash at the bar next door…never is a drink on the house…

and the lamb cries out to his father…forgive them…they know not what they do…blacks killin’ blacks…whites killin’ browns…as rents go up in a town in desperate need of rest while a new-born sucks upon a breast seeking nourishment…as Gabriel blows into dawn… into dawn…wailing is heard…shh…listen…

Lake and Halsted…Lake and Halsted…where white girl dances into morn…boy is shot in the arms of america…and a 40oz. sits in a bag on the curb…empty as a soul on a Saturday night…

as Mary the whore and more cry at the feet of the lamb…praying for his return…some day…some day…come back…come back…deliver us all…

from Lake and Halsted…Lake and Halsted…

Published by: dmseay

The writing is based on my surroundings and what I've been surrounded by. This language is coarse and politically incorrect; which I make no apologies for. These characters are not nice and to use any other dialogue would be disingenuine. That being said, I choose to roll the dice. dm seay

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