The Slide

In the dark of the park

the slide sleeps

At the bottom of the stairs

a child weeps

An African boy

with stomach swollen

An Angel in black

His mouth open

At the top

a paler child

The air of the city

swirls around her, mild

and cool, the cold city air

Poisons her blood

and pulls at her hair

The wind creeps

And all alone

on the other side

An old man sits at

the end of the slide

and cries for salvation

through the veil of the bride

Who laughs as she cries as

she falls down the slide

to the bottom