i went downtown and stood at the corner of an intersection,
but rather than preaching and yelling,
i watched as the drivers went by,
trying to imagine their lives, their hopes and desires,
right as a truck flew by and caused a 10
car pile up right before my eyes, as they say
in the bloody, beating, exposed heart of downtown,
a neon sign for a greasy, never closed, never quite open (emotionally speaking) diner flickers on and off,
a single streetlamp illuminates the cracked sidewalk for late-night joggers, of which there are none
a distant sound of dub-step echoes from a nearby club,
a gentle breeze carries the sweet fragrance of cherry blossom cologne in full bloom,
and amidst the urban chaos, fleeting moments of beauty give solace to inner LED lights flashing/strobe/break dancing
Fred Aiken Writing 