Alley Stroll

There’s an alley, by the bar I frequent

It’s a vile run, but it saves me time

The street is awash in filth

Trashcans, rats, and sometime a bum or two

Smears of ooze from the trash

And a lingering smell of everything from this place

Discarded liquor bottles and half eaten meals

Which are always covered with maggots, roaches or ants

There’s cigarette butts everywhere

Who would seek this place out to smoke?

Hardly seems like a place to take a break

It’s always dark back here, too

The buildings block most of the sun

And the dampness never goes away

If there are really any lights back here, none of them work

It makes for an uncomfortable walk home at night

And it has to be on a registry of “the windiest places in town”

It truly holds the title of “wind cave”

But it’s the time it saves me

The corners I cut and the lessening of steps I have to take

Which make me thankful for this alley

And I think of it that way

Every time I walk though here

© Dicky J Loweman 2015