How The Capitalists Killed Canton, Ohio Poem by mark king

How The Capitalists Killed Canton Ohio;

by mark king

I. Myself and I; In the broken bricks where the memories mix like the mortar that once held them together with the shadows that are us. I am the spokesman for the shadows.

II. Storms; It rains pain here and thunder kicks you when you’re down, while the man with broken English takes your money at the corner store.

III. Bricks; Bricks built this city and bricks broke it down. Slowly and surely they filled the marsh and bought the farms. Rising up new places to choke this city. How could they not know?

IV. Mother; She was born here in the post war hay days when the down town bustled with shopping and business. The factories belched smoke and people had union cards. We even had an amusement park, ballroom, burlesque and a speedway.

V. Mother and I; Under the green grass she lays on the hill overlooking all the progress. The leaves blow in the wind never still to long, just like our lives. Now it’s all peace, because all is behind.

VI. Fathers; The first I never knew, but they always said I’m just like him. The second tried, but he wasn’t ready and the third Isn’t even worth a mention.

VII. Empty Space; I’m sitting in the empty space they call a park, but its hole in the heart of the city, like some bodies head. The best Coney’s in town were sold here along with the fresh markets, drugstores, and a five and dime. Now all we’re left with is Rite-Aid.

VIII. Famous Spot; Monument park holds the late great president William McKinley in a Masonic looking tomb. He coffin is so huge I wonder if he was a Nephilim, like in Genesis. Behind it is a creepy cemetery where my friends and I used to party in days long gone by. One thing I noticed is they keep the park in better condition then the city, so the squirrels have a good home.

IX. She Said I Was The One; I’m walking the trails and smoking just because it pisses the joggers off. I’m thinking of a lost love who told me I was the one forever and always, but I let her go and she ended up in the penitentiary, just like I said she would.

X. Dave and Janice; I always went to fast and so did they, however needles and spoons befriended them in a twisted love affair. They used come over and shoot dope, but after the needle was empty they’d lie on the coach and become one with it. Now Janice lives in the sky and Dave is behind cold steel bars.

XI. Out of Towner’s; On Fridays and Saturdays we’re invaded, like Vikings in there sleek ships they come in sleek SUV’s and Cadillac cars to the acclaimed art district where art shops, restaurants and bars do more than get by. I have no grip about this being a striving artist myself, but how about industry, retails stores and such?

XII. Ghost Town; It’s the middle of the week and the middle of the day. My thoughts form words that I pen on the paper as all the government workers, lawyers, and office types populate the city on a 9 to 5 basis then its back to the burbs leaving it a ghost town.

XIII. Angels; Another hour has past and the angels on the federal building trumpet it in, like they have for a hundred years. At night they are lit up with colored lights and I wonder if anyone sees the beauty here.

XIV. City Mission; I’m eating at the soup kitchen in the Refuge of Hope. I see at least thirty faces I can call friend. I used to work here; it’s where I learned the better part of me and to see that in everyone.

XV. Libera Nos A Malo; The shadow cast from the building is like a dark cloud with a slight chill I wonder about the future for our children in a city that has become a widow to the men and women who left it behind.