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Fake Set, Fake City

Walking through the slums
in the city of modesty.
The skyscrapers' just a set,
masking poverty.
It's all cardboard held up by string,
as the poor actors move on,
and all the paper birds sing.
Chalk lines separate
the sides of the street.
The set may be fake
but I have real splinters under my feet.
Hot compression,
a flakey impression.
What does my pain mean?
A slow regression?
The wound,
still fresh and
still raw and
still real?
Let's test the waters,
take a lemon and press the peel.
If it hurts,
I'll squeal
like a pig becoming pork.
Like the honking of a horn.
Or like the daily pains of the homeless
in the fake set,
of the fake cities of
Los Angeles, Chicago, Atlanta
or New York.

2 Nov 09

Rated 9 (8.7) by 1 users.
Active (1):
Inactive (2): 8, 9, 9

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I like your poem-
though I think you could probably do without
line 8--I think it hurts your otherwise cool poem...
also, I would change 'piggy' to 'pig' in line 23
otherwise, nicely done
 — JKWeb

You know this is different and I am all over different like a fat boy on pork rinds.
glitz city! cool
 — unknown

I deleted line 8, and replaced it with the new L8-9. Piggy changed to pig. I think this reads better.
 — cubbzor

also changed the first line, replaced "streets" with "slums"
 — cubbzor

good poetry !
 — sanjaybhusal

it does look and read better...
but should 'city' in line 28 be 'cities' ?
jus' wonderin'
 — JKWeb

Thanks for catching that, it was meant to be cities.
 — cubbzor

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