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