Cosmopolitan Stink

it is a closed road
so i am included
as one without a
pass

i understand
perfectly
a new set of
dead bodies
whose flesh
are partly
eaten by fish
arrives today

from a boat
that meet
the storm
headlong

it sank
and the pointing fingers
grow like lichens
on the tree

the odors here
are dumped
and the nose
bleeds

body after body
wail after wail
too huge
for the cosmopolitan
street to handle

i shifted
my gaze
and take
another road

a hungry child,
families sleeping on the streets
of the city
imprisoned garbage
angry rats
caught at dead end
corners

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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