Blood red sovereign exchange
‘remember that thou art dust’
And.. the brightness above?Well..
The shadows weave doubt,
hope subjugated under a cadaverous sky
I cannot remember my dreams
before hell showed the needle’s escape,
after sleeping rough in the park.,
keeping the blood line alive.
Lines, do your lines,
Double white lines on double yellows
Blind-locked beat-alley poets
damned one-way souls on shady,
shabby, dark little streets.
Our days float blind above cobbles
sleeping partners trading on sacred times.
We are TheCardboard kings!
By night we sink cans of Dutch Gold,
watch Liffey Boardwalk lovers weave
Midsummer’s other dream,
our eyes spaced-out flying saucers
as they tango in moonlit oblivion to ‘us’-
and Mammon’s crack burning ire.
They, seeing only despair,
never know that ,we, each night,
in cutting-edge purgatorial desire,
witness spaceships and vultures,
hope and damnation,
demons and angels,
Circling their god’s magnificent spire.