Tuesday, December 20, 2011

Chinatown Back Alley

They threatened us.

Death spat in my face,
my lover at my side
crying and begging
for another chance

Funny how I can remember
the smell of rotting vegetables
in the dank of midnight steam,
cats fighting,
maybe trying not to become
steak on the menu

Guns in my face
yelling “DEATH TO FAGS,”
not as terrible
as the scuff on my shoe,
embracing Death,
and asking to be carried away

Even the gunshot
did not distract me
from focusing on a cockroach
busy nibbling on rotting cabbage,
and as They ran off
I sank into sadness
as his blood touched me
and left me alive

© Antonio Beardall

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