Eight Mile NCD Northeast (Dirty 8)
10 August 2019
| An entry in the Crocodile Prize Poetry Award
Tis a dry and dusty world
where no running water flows
Children and dogs
always at play
Among the market tables
where brown grass grows
Young men play cards all day
smoke weed every night
Every weekend, it's a bottle of steam
And everyone dreams
about a life that did not go right
More than a boulevard of broken dreams
hard fought resilience and harsh poverty
Here live thugs, drugs, nobodies and misfits
There’s no nobility at the bottom of society
Food is scarce and a wasa is rare
Child abuse is commonplace
And we sit and light up
bored men with no luck
A battered woman's screaming
fills the night air
Maybe H8 Mile
Posted by: Bernard Corden | 03 December 2019 at 07:58 AM
Agreed Phil.
Tychicus has a good style for expressing his observations.
Less said, more shown.
We are sitting next to him waiting for the day to die in dust and smoke.
More please.
Posted by: Michael Dom | 02 December 2019 at 06:00 PM
That's a very good poem Tychicus.
Stark and minimalist with just the right level of imagery.
Reminds me of the poetry of Stephen Crane.
The only minor criticism is the use of the archaic 'tis'. I think 'its' would work as well and fit the rest of the poem better.
Posted by: Philip Fitzpatrick | 10 August 2019 at 10:29 PM