Through The Barbed Streets And Fire Poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr

Here in front of the typewriter
That feels like a gun
That I tout in the flaming night,

This is what I need,
More deaths,
Lesser life

Because we will
Always walk through
The barbed streets
Coated with fire.

And the women
Will break the hearts
Of men like vases
And get away with it
Because that’s how they are

The men will
Violate the women
In revelries
Drunk or sober
And get away with it
Because that’s how they are

Here, I always die
At the moment
And think about
Heaven at the latter.

I’ve not slept with
A woman,
And I don’t see the need.
Just go away
To where I won’t see you.

I may have
Broken a heart
Before, but this time
I wouldn’t
Because sometimes
I contradict myself
When I said
That what a soul needs
To be complete is
Another soul.

Sometimes, all you need
Is yourself
To walk flawlessly
Through the fire.