She stood huge, hot.
Smoke rose from her crevices and scalding pipes.
Naked emaciate ladies
sat crumpled.
...
Our Lady Of Mental Peace
She stood huge, hot.
Smoke rose from her crevices and scalding pipes.
Naked emaciate ladies
sat crumpled.
Matrons patrolled.
Somnolent Haitian women swept the mess.
Black toothed mouths
blew smoke at mocking faces in the air.
Bodies slept bundled on the cool tile.
I came to Our Lady to find love,
and found love lost.
I saw still smoking souls.
Ralph's harsh breath stream.
Billy’s brains falling out.
Danny’s pulsing fists,
phantoms haunting his hissing eyes.
Gentle, mute Wayne,
with twists, grunts, and breathy squeaks, wished for home.
Above us,
two howling smoke stacks sent red fumes of toxic madness
into the cold night air.