I saw a Street Kid shot thru the head
On Amsterdam.
I never saw the collapse for the taxicab that had
Dropped me off got in the way.
Moments before the taxi driver had offered me
His wife & daughters.
He said that I could do anything
I wanted with them so long as he could use his new
Digital camera.
It was an ephemeral moment,
Timeless
The sound of the gun echoing thru the
Streets
Of New York City & the City swallowed the
Bang
As it swallows its children.
Sirens, screams, shouts. I refused
My hotel room.
What a show New York puts
On for its tourists & free as well.
I bathed in
The electric flashing lights & drowned in the
Cops’ orders.
In a huge black bag, they
Scooped the trash up like I do at home. In the
Morning, I went to where the Street Kid was
Shot & there was a dry clot on the tarmac & concrete.
There was no white line depicting a murdered
Street Youth
Like in the movies.
I was disappointed for I had bought a cheap
Disposable camera.
Richard Wainborough
aiurea press 