Dirt Of Society

from down in the sidewalk came the gutter's growl

a slow dirt is society

the burden of the beast

coming up from inside

sewer lines and well walked streets


the skin on which we drive

is another highway

void of exits and signs

the curves and the corners

walls and borders of our lives

coveralls and chalky hands

the anchor sinking our feet

crossroads biways sideways

criss-cross fly away

bus stops stop lights

the corner store is open up all night

up close never felt so far away

Words by travist.paine. 2005

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