Mambo's Blues

Sad Spanish strains 

Night street

 

All dissent quiet

Church mice sleeping

Humans creeping through

Petrified forests

 

Papers walk you around

Papers to walk the dog

Police looting city blocks

 

Wayward masks soaking   

God forsaken puddles

Gloves, skeleton mud runners

 

Kisses, canned peaches on

Weathered shelves

Embraces holding 

Magic clock-strike twelves

 

Poets creak, pastors preach

The abandoned plunging 

hollow promise streams

 

With great introspection

Masses ponder the great dissection

 

Easter bunnies screw in tournesol sheds

The bum rap meds, no one to touch his hand

 

Lab rats grin as the mother

of all vaccines warms to the

Resounding orchestral death march

 

We stay together Keep our love

Hide in the never heard of

 

Knit our threads, bake our breads

Sing our songs, read Walt all night long

Nurses, doctor helping hands

Stave off the storm with clothespins

 

Nature heals, as the wheels roll off the highway

Rest like tires in wilted roadside graveyards

Poem Michael D. Amitin,
Photograph Julie Peiffer