At the Hippodrome

BROAD sweep of turn now straightens, as hyper focused riders
BRACE upon the lathering horses: now the final stretch.
HIPPOdrome crowd holds its breath, transfixed.
GOOEY ice cream cones melting in streaks onto clutched fists.

A Murder on the Block

COUNT the shots-5?-call 911,
BUGGY world leaks its broken numbness,
LOAMY earth soon to fall on Marcel, murdered neighbor I never met.
CLOSE the book, Lord, chapters getting darker. Bring the new city. Soon.

Note: this happened last night. I did not know Marcel. He was shot to death 50 yards from where we slept.