Invisible

He sits on the street corner,
howling sentences broken and

divested from meaning, hurtling

angry invectives at each person

passing unhearing and unseeing.

His voice cracks with forsaken fury,

the faces reflect the unfeeling edifices

rising and towering and surrounding,

an unending procession of cold exteriors

and hard fronts, lips locked doors set in

inexpressive glass and steel and concrete

bouncing, hollowing, blending and distorting

his wail with the roar of trucks and sea

of horns; the screaming screech of metal

and shower of electric sparks from the ‘L’

above echoing and overtaking in the din

of chaos his blindly grasping rage

searching the deaf and mute masses

for evidence of his own existence.

But here, the louder you cry, the more

you disappear, just another silent scream

swallowed by the city.