The Key
by Arscnio Stembridge
(Winner of the City College Poetry Festival, 2006)

All around me there were people
Not looking into their face was the key. Some of
them were in cars.
In the streets there was paper.
When the people saw me, they started reaming.
I guess they could see the wires from my shoes.

But the wires were not visible from my shoes.
I guess the ones around my waist were visible to the people. Maybe I should be the one running.
No, I made up my mind - besides the keys
Were at home. Advertisement papers
Were all on the walls. They ran into their cars.

Some of them ran on top of cars
They ran right out of the shoe
Store. People felt flat like the papers.
People were running on top of people
Like ants. Some of the people dropped their keys
And just ran.

The people ran
The roaches when they see light The cars
Were like faster roaches The key
Was not looking into their faces. Their shoes Were moving like motors. The people
Ran right through the papers.

The people kicked the papers
Into the air. Their running
Would soon stop. The people
Would soon stop moving. The cars
Would soon stop moving fast. Their shoes
Would soon stop moving, The keys

Would soon stop dropping Their keys
Would melt. The papers
Wou1d soon burn. Their shoes
Would be a part of their feet.
Their running
Would become flying. Their ugly cars
Would become debris. The people

Would be extinct.  The people forgot about their keys.
Their cars started to burn. And the papers
Turned ash. No need to run, no need for shoes.