Plastered

Black and white bars
scrape raspberry flesh
rubbed raw with sandpaper reality
ash-covered pieces of paper turn and fold
flapping like dog ears without a care in the world
the wind on a warm summer's day
orange skies set like tangerines huddled together in the distance
people walk past, rushing, trying to catch today's news
printed stories and rebellious typefaces litter the kitten gray sky
some songs creep out of plastified ears
hanging over heads like cartoon clouds
the brisk speed at which swarms travel
make it easy to miss
the sepia profile crushed like sticky grapes
dripping against the oppressive weight
of metaphoric cages, incandescent rages
hands pushed against the barriers
individual patterns faded and mixed
with the grainy paper
frozen in an everlasting moment
soul squeezed like fresh fruit on display
in wooden crates (grapefruit, melon, peach)
lined up along Broome Street
bodies move in a flurry
cigarette ashes make little circles above hard concrete
blending, blurring, a rhythmic scurrying
folks feed and feast on earthly delights
while underfoot, if you look really closely
spirits strike a strange pose
against metal, paper, steel, grit and grime
layer upon layer
hidden but present