displacement I've seen
faces unseen
ashes floating in the river
from places I've been
hellbent & pretend
spines down our backs
we shiver
faces unseen
dystopian scenes
seams they shoot as they quiver,
holes in the fence
marbles canned on the bench
peak through slivers
faces with paint
memory mistakes
memory mistakes
memory mistakes
bodies drop like flies
friends fallen timbers
we still paint our face
from life displaced
so the croak of death
may look through our eyes
as maggots
turn to
flies
About the Creator
G.S Hasckle
hello i am g.s hasckle i am a new orleans street poet, i travel around with a backpack and my typewriter writing poems on demand for anyone who hears my siren song
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