"New World"
by SamHaiNe

New World

It's all true
God's an absentee slumlord/
The government lies/
And Midian is where the monsters live/
If the streets could talk they'd slur/
It's the future-present.
The seedy side of neon.
There's meat markets and billiards. Pawn shops and Miller's; Owl's Head to Checkmates, Pubs & Backdoor distillers. Black markets, bodegas, Deep Webs and Gunsmithers.
Confessions lamenting. Moonclips rouletting. Memories echoing from the taverns and slums, backstreets and hidden within the trees, behind the alleys, where bouncing Betty's can shred you between the knees.
Moonshine and wet dreams, larceny and schemes. Left hands and hammers. Crims unpampered. There's the willing and the wolves. By hook or by crook.
No matter it's worth - everyone 's food and food is a square meal.
Razors in cheeks and things taped under seats.
Bagmen and contraband. The world while you sleep.
Residents who owe no one.
Misanthropes and runts.
Life in the moment. The thrill when you cum.
Hardware is guns and knives for wetwork.
A burners what you shoot. You frag what you aim at. A shiv in a knife fight. A rock in a sock.
You take what you can carry.
Vic’s who got knocked.
Because everyone is food and food is a square meal.
The lost are found or find their way, they say. Outlaws, discontents, outcasts, working class vignettes. Sinners can become civilians.
Where marginal personalities can be themselves. Where the broken are healed. Choosing who they are if not who they've been. It can happen. Second chances are everyday, they say. The community supports itself and the community is its people. The stronghold, the outlaw city. The dream for those who live by their own rules to its fullest.