Buzzy city

crawls with em all:
predators, scavengers, parasites,
sneaks, grifters, nutjobs,
the whole stinky raft of em.

I scavenge, mostly.
A rat lives large
in a marketplace,

and a dog does OK
at the feet of a messy master.
Not a bad life in the city.

In this jungle,
even a hunter
may be hunted.
You get street smart fast.
Otherwise its ugly.

This jungle has tiers
like the worlds Dante describes,
where different kinds
of angels and sinners
find their proper level.

Beneath the surface:
behind the scenes,
basements and cellars,
pipes and tunnels,
steam and storage,
subways and sewers.
Constant flow.

On the ground:
the human dance in the public space,
buying, selling, and showing off,
hanging out, flirting, striding with purpose.
All the types mix here.

Up in the towers:
deciders and planners,
makers of deals and of rules,
degree holders,
suit wearers,
suit bringers.

High in the sky:
the thrones of the mighty,
those that rise
or climb
or cheat
to the untouchable