文学与艺术诗歌：诗歌TheConcreteRiver_英文诗词
we sink into the dust，
baba and me，
beneath brush of prickly leaves；
ivy strangling trees——singing
our last rites of locura.
homeboys. worshipping god-fumes
out of spray cans.
our backs press up against
a corrugated steel fence
along the dried banks
of a concrete river.
spray-painted outpourings
on walls offer a chaos
of color for the eyes.
home for now. hidden in weeds.
furnished with stained mattresses
and plastic milk crates.
wood planks thrust into
thick branches
serve as roof.
the door is a torn cloth curtain
（knock before entering）。
home for now， sandwiched
in between the maddening days.
we aim spray into paper bags.
suckle them. take deep breaths.
an echo of steel-sounds grates the sky.
home for now. along an urban-spawned
stream of muck， we gargle in
the technicolor synthesized madness.
this river， this concrete river，
becomes a steaming， bubbling
snake of water， pouring over
nightmares of wakefulness；
pouring out a rush of birds；
a flow of clear liquid
on a cloudless day.
not like the black oil stains we lie in，
not like the factory air engulfing us；
not this plastic death in a can.
sun rays dance on the surface.
gray fish fidget below the sheen.
and us looking like huckleberry finns/
tom sawyers， with stick fishing poles，
as dew drips off low branches
as if it were earth's breast milk.
oh， we should be novas of our born days.
we should be scraping wet dirt
with callused toes.
we should be flowering petals
playing ball.
soon water/fish/dew wane into