Saturday, May 10, 2014

Richard Schnap- A Poem


There were narrow streets
Where crippled houses scowled at me
With a cold dumb hatred

And sometimes a wounded bar
That served madness on tap
For a dollar a glass

While in this realm of shadows
I sought rumored parties
Serenaded by a defeated music

As the wind carried cries
From the ghosts of factories
In a long-dead language

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