::11:21:07::

::: Syracuse Syphons :::

Syracuse syphons
On below
A gurgling sound
The meanderer mishappens...

He, Rebeek sneaks, Fubu hoodie,
Gold, long, thick, neck chain, reflecting,
And a weighty medallion.

She, sleek, smooth, hair gathered
To ponytail, neatly, perfectly,
Her long bright red nails
Sparkling, glistening, decals.

Such as they, daily, trod . . .
Upon a tactic.

It's a spiral, camophlaged, blurry, fuzzy....
The movement continually, steadily downward
Pulls, . feels like centrifugal force,
Toward under,
'Neath a quazi quicksand whirlpool combo,
Becoming entrapped.

Rambunctious, rosy cheeked children
Heavenly sound of giggles and laughs
Wholesome aspirations
Hopeful anticipation
Purely good intentions

Enduring icy mornings, the sting,
Exhaling white clouds, until transit appears.

Diapers, shoes, milk, bread, electric current. . . .
The yield
Of twenty tidied rooms daily,
Forty cases, packaged per hour
Hot, heavy air, warning the nose
of oil, chemicals, solvents.
Loud drone of machinery, grinding, groaning, churning
Assaulting the ears.
Sweat and muscle, move voluminous cargo.

Day follows day,
Follow weeks into years.

Privilege persists,
Choke-hold upon throats.
Protection . pure pretext,
Freedom, a farse,
Compromised standards,
All to entitle
The state of the art.

Shades of beautiful browns
Reds, yellows, complexions
Almond shaped eyes
Tongues trill the'r'
Dreds, turban, burka

A water kaleidoscope
Rich, thick, bright, noble, colors
Mosaic, patterned swirls
Parading, and circling.

Oily, pasty white, stands sovereign
Beads up, but won't blend
Its shrill coldness
Rebounding, blinding.

Grey-green, grungy, sludge,
Gritty, foul smelling muck,
Source of the suction.
Slurps, swallows down, ruthlessly.
Syracuse syphons
All hope
From the hues.

Written by: ~ Deborah Morales