Chris Crittenden

City Mirrors

ghosts
in the façades,
stretched and folded
like darkled taffy.

people clip-clopping by,
in vain footware
that could feed the Congo,

unmindful
of the boutiques and shops.
with windowfronts
that mock them,

reflecting

the rack and rend
of stress-borne souls,
simulacra
of the money dance,
insane puppet show,

fueled by the crowds themselves-
the bustle and hassle
of their clock-spurred flesh,

and the hellish mimes
who taunt them
from umbral walls.

Chris Crittenden © 2009