{"id":2025,"date":"2013-02-07T00:27:49","date_gmt":"2013-02-07T00:27:49","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/poetry\/?page_id=2025"},"modified":"2013-02-07T00:27:49","modified_gmt":"2013-02-07T00:27:49","slug":"michael-n-thompson213","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/poetry\/archives\/michael-n-thompson213\/","title":{"rendered":"Michael N. Thompson"},"content":{"rendered":"

DIABLO\u2019S CIRCUS<\/strong><\/p>\n

The air is crisp,
\nThough not too cold
\nAnd in between tourist traps,
\nBodies are strewn about
\nLike zombies
\nAfter an apocalypse<\/p>\n

Old Korean women
\nWith their carts
\nPass by early morning hustlers
\nAnd they nod to each other
\nKnowing that both are looking
\nFor a little junk
\nThat might be worth
\nA dollar or a damn<\/p>\n

Today\u2019s vagrant
\nSits at the bottom
\nOf the stairwell
\nCaked with expectations
\nThat his paper cup
\nWill soon be filled with coins,
\nBut doesn\u2019t have the guts
\nTo look subway pedestrians
\nIn their eyes<\/p>\n

Spokesmen for desolation,
\nWho would otherwise reside
\nUnder the curve of an exit ramp,
\nLoiter in an SRO lobby
\nWith a newspaper
\nAnd chain-smoke Viceroys
\nOn a velveteen sofa<\/p>\n

Next to the Century Theater,
\nAddicts with jailhouse ink
\nMake their presence felt
\nAs do the skinny Asian girls
\nWho long to break free
\nOf the massage parlor future
\nTheir mother have carved out for them
\nAnd a battle-tested crone
\nShuffles along the concrete,
\nBut the housecoat
\nThat she\u2019s adorned in
\nDoesn\u2019t cover up varicose veins<\/p>\n

Social clubs on folded chairs
\nCome to order along the avenue
\nWhile song and dance mobs
\nAttempt to entertain the uninitiated
\nFor a few silver dollars
\nBut mostly end up posing
\nFor vacation photographs<\/p>\n

Homeless men play their games
\nOf checkers, dominos
\nAnd backgammon
\nOn the same cardboard boxes
\nThey\u2019ll later flatten to sleep on
\nWhile fog swirls over the rooftops<\/p>\n

The wing-tipped crowd
\nCrawls like cockroaches
\nUp the boulevard
\nPunching a clock
\nThat hits back ever harder
\nUntil its five o\u2019clock
\nWhere they dread returning
\nTo Stepford wives
\nAnd prefabricated tract homes
\nIn their hell-du-sacs<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Michael N. Thompson is the author of the poetry collections Dancing Inside The Mouth Of Madness, This Hollow Pierces and Verbal Alchemy.<\/em> He has also been published in over two dozen literary journals. He has lived in British Columbia, Washington, Pennsylvania, California and the state of confusion. After barely surviving the death of hair metal, numerous riots and the occasional earthquake in Los Angeles, Michael returned to his hometown of San Francisco in 2008 where he cheers relentlessly for his beloved 49ers and Giants without consequence.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

DIABLO\u2019S CIRCUS The air is crisp, Though not too cold And in between tourist traps, Bodies are strewn about Like zombies After an apocalypse Old Korean women With their carts Pass by early morning hustlers And they nod to each other Knowing that both are looking For a little junk That might be worth A […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"parent":934,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-2025","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"yoast_head":"\nMichael N. 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