Railroad Ties Poem by Robin Bennett

Overgrown weeds and the unfamiliar poor,
live on the other side of carefully placed
railroad ties.
The scenery was-
sponsored by welfare,
A vision in spray paint heaven-
graffiti the poetry of the streets

I'm sheltered,
I don't speak impoverished.
Children's games once,
innocent pictures
in sidewalk chalk,
now white ghosts drawn
in the streets.

A whole neighborhood of,
crumbling houses, decorated in
hospital green chipped paint.
Begging for a manicure-
In front each cemetery garden,
leaned foliage, all brittle boned
and grey like Mr. Kelly on
his last day.

My middle class mind,
wondered why so much
furniture lived outside.
Bodies scramble to
get the perfect
seat to an action movie.
Ripe with gun shots,
and open air drug
deals.

I smell pine cleaner, boredom
and death. Hope has never
lived here.