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