Street Fighter

Poverty’s bruising fingerprints

Mock sensitive flesh

With indelible mark-making

A most despicable artist

This menace follows everywhere I tread

Peter Pan’s shadow rewrought in bleak parody

Life’s start?

A rough stone cylinder of

Ignorance and despair

At least this oubliette has a ladder

Weak daylight illuminates the topmost rungs

If we were ninja turtles this would be easy

Cut the soles of your feet

Now climb

Each step is a year of your life

(If you’re lucky)

Until one day you step out

A busy street where you are noticed

Eyes askance

Because you smell bad

Feet bleeding

(Yep, that’s definitely infected)

The day comes where blending in is easier

But sewers lurk on every street corner

Beckoning with siren song

Their demanding summons

“Not today, thanks”

- My soft no for a harsh order

There is a place I go

To inoculate myself

Silly

Yet holy

You will laugh when I tell you

A swimming pool in the basement of the Fairmont

Solace in a salt water hot tub and dainty courtyard

Sunbeams settle on my closed eyes

A jarring prompt of my underground confinement

Though a pleasant amendment

There are barriers to entry

Bosses to beat

Roll your shoulders back

Make eye contact, smile

Act like you belong

Another ladder

Less daunting

I already know how to climb