You Can Run All Your Life

The beauty is there even in the piles of old lives in the streets
 lives being born through the chaotic rub
 more muses for me with blinking traffic light churches
if I don’t view it as a poet,I will crack with the wood under the heavy truck tires
crushed by crushes
new love under flood light
this may have always been a third world afterall
and if not
it most certainly is now
home is where ever I found it
in a park
stumbling through a train stop in Drogheda
linked arm in arm against bankers
the dust and rotting smell is the new normality for the lot of us
I ran from the neighborhood as quick as I could
I’m done running
unless you count me running back to help it mend

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