Anywhere pass the fire escape
Where the steam rises underneath the asphalt,
As if a winded dragon dwells.
Burrowed beneath the city
Territorial rats creep
On putrid concrete floors,
And gadget crazed Zombies transport.
Stark Corridors reveals a mystic urban venue
Where extraordinary passion is measured
By a dead president,
That lay at the bottom of old soup can.
Undiscovered on their platform
Releasing their rhythmic metaphors.
Moving to the beat of their own drum
That echo off a passing subway car……