Afternoon Novena

Dear lady of sorrows!
The bodies gather dust.
The streets leave their nameless
to die inside the doorways.

There bent upon benches,
Sat staring up to heaven,
Dry eyes and paper faces.
Victims beneath the forming

Clouds, thickening like flies
Over piles of dead dogs.
A drunk is but a gnat
Inside the cities belly,

A life consumed inside
The syrup of the jug.
Sweetened inside the sickness
And cured outside in sun.

Dear lady of sorrows!
Arbitrator of plans-
Draw clouds above this scene
Like a morticians sheet.

Theres blood upon the dust
Theres ants upon the hand
Oh perfect saintly heart
A womans thigh say nothing

Of death, the busy streets
See nothing of the dead,
Dead in the afternoon,
Only the dreary dogs,

Come sniffing for their scent
After the rains have come,
Like bulls circling in dust
Before the final act.