Reflections of power make ghosts stand still
The headless beast in the street cannot cry, ‘Rescue Me.’
A man holds his waist, his jacket a cape
Hair ablaze in the shade, he whispers, ‘Rescue Me.’
The chew cannot move, its hardened frame still
On the edge of a ledge it hums, ‘Rescue Me.’
An actor, a fake; no poetry can save
One foot in the fame, credits roll, 'Rescue Me.’
A wad of perfect waste no god could remove
Divine is its prayer, incomplete, ‘Rescue Me.’
--Shannon Mariama Houston
Not knowing what is near, he
Saunters to his SUV.
Above, the old gum weary,
Too dried up to be teary,
Cries in silence "Rescue me!"