Precinct Number 9

the perilous Precinct Number 9
which finds existence out of time.
where priceless deviants collect
and penniless officers defect.
the present being worth a dime
the past preemptive with neglect.

this precinct's crumbling stone facade
by all aesthetic sense is flawed.
the mortar cracks, and falls at will,
a cryptic meaning from a faded seal.
the message as handed down by god,
but time erased it's ancient zeal.

as anyone knows they must confess,
the inside's even more a mess.
stacks of documents old and new,
a vending machine that's busted through.
the bathroom stall's a roaches nest
and every doorknob's caked in goo.

streams of ghosts and empty men
that line the walls of every pen.
blue faced fathers float on high
and stone cold mothers ponder why
he fell face first in life again,
sank down deep and prepped to die.

the perilous Precinct Number 9
it steals itself outside of time.
an obelisk of redemptive shame
a worship place with an empty name.
in military step and cult-like rhyme
is ancient Precinct Number 9.