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