Bruised cigarette butts adorn the ground,
just outside of the corner store.
Newport makes room for Marlboro.
A carnival of cancer sticks galore.
Corona cerveza bottles lined up like domino’s, waiting to be tipped.
Young unkempt dudes and old flashy broads posted like walls along a tiny strip.
Broken payphones eating quarters.
Weed bags covered in smiles.
Scratched, scraped and ravaged until empty, crack vials.
Dirty needles nestled in crevices where plants used to grow.
Feral cats running from putrid pregnant rats, with nowhere to go.
By L.S. Williamson