Chasing Rainbows

We are chasing rainbows

and catching dreams,

hurdling the unfortunate

who sleep on our streets,

 

as our concrete pathway

is a washed with fear.

Christ will climb down from his cross

to cleanse faces, drowning in tears.

 

We are parking the dead

into a single file,

building a bonfire,

stacking a pyre.

 

With rainbows stolen

and hope all but vanished,

souls are being delivered

in a brown paper package.

 

There is not enough ground

to bury the dead,

every footprint is reserved

to build a monument instead

 

to carve out on stone and brick

and on an ocean of glass,

a façade of falseness

that for decades will last.