URBAN CAVES
By
Chief Swift Eagle

Small wonder there are muggings
and murders on the street.
The world is such an ugly place
when covered with concrete.

Small wonder that there's
dope around,
A pusher on each lamp post.
Eight million in a few square miles
Make a human compost.

The sun is shaded by the smoke.
Its rays must pass through mortar.
Only walking pigeon breaths
In this high rise disorder.

There are no windows in the cells.
The air is scrubbed by filter.
And moods are set by music
So no one goes off kilter.

Why would people live this way?
Do they have other choices?
They're the ones who lay the bricks.
I cannot hear their voices.

Complaining by their actions,
Refusing unnatural trimmings..
Nature has seen this type before.
These must be human lemmings.

Copyrights 1987 - All Rights Reserved

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