by Craig Farrell
In this nights diversion
city inches forward like liquid light
Drifting from purpose to pulpit
gathering discarded dignity from a scarred landscape
All these streets have names that sound like prostitutes
you’ve seen it all
Seen all from the shattered windows etched in tattooed walls
From the side of a road littered with the colour of sex and revolution
And the shadows of contempt tapping on a melodrama
Like a junkie in heat
you’ve seen it all
I cover the sky
In pastels and fire and sweat
dripping one drop of virtue in each symmetrical gap
I cover the sky
With hands outstretched and passion diluted with salt of her fear
taste lingering on a pallet of steel and disguise.
I cover the sky
In the midst of a victory
stolen from the edge of every sadness felt in fleeting seconds.
We listen to silence
Exile the screams of an ancient voice beckoning its own satisfaction
tearing at felicity with carnal purpose
We listen to silence
Shrouded in decadence and hunger and form
soliciting cravings and brazen fever
We listen to silence
Delusion dissolves at day break igniting nostalgia and naked regret
for moments we lost caressing a future.
