Another Poem

Carmelita

Moonlighting
In districts swathed in a
Sleepy haze of
Washed out opportunity and
Crooked sensibilities

Soaking in that syrup
It chokes
The incense glows orange
eyes burn with hope

Holes are the absence
Of something vital
Lips form a yawning pit
It gapes

brown lines mark
Cinderblock walls that
Sing when the rain hits them