You asked me what I think
sorrow & regret
now the consequence of our decisions
have finally kicked in,
but the silver was stripped from my tongue when
I heard those words I never expected;
when you made me realise
there are some lives you live
& some you leave behind*
There was no answer to give you.
All I can do
is write this ugly poem &
hope that eventually we
can accept the reason
why it had to happen this way…
* Gardenhead/Leave Me Alone – Neutral Milk Hotel
The City street-lamps conspire to hide,
the cold shimmer of starlight from our eyes,
the stars we walk beneath but cannot see,
thinking only of what will never be.
The City is teeming with ice-
cream peddlers, vintage shops &
pours water warm as blood upon us
& we just shrug;
& we ignore her protestation.
The City is killing us
& we allow it to happen.
I want to burn it down to the fucking ground.
Such repeated Pyrrhic victories it took
for you to see
that the one you used to love, the words
you once could trust,
now there’s no one.
by some undeserved serendipity
a new dream emerges.
& though we’re only two mammals
who desire the warmth of the other,
we’re also so much more.
Lost in the pressure of the Simulacra,
the strange among strangers
of new buildings
weird & eerie.
Yet all the rest – or so
it seems –
of the animals in the City
are so at ease,
but to me
the fumes & traffic, tragic
neglected people forced to sleep
on the streets – “Sorry,
don’t have any change” –
& the oppressive cranes
declaring the domination
blind to the mantic fury of
history buried beneath the streets
The City disgusts me.
All Gods die a quiet death.
Only silence survives when nothing is left.
In the struggle of existence,
even the winners have to lose.
The odds are always against us,
no matter which side of the line we choose.
Martyrs mistake dreams for pretence,
but nothing exists that makes any sense:
Just pretty pictures to paint over & protect.