In the City

In the City

we are all a corpse,

alone in cedar—


walled homes,

but nightly we dance and rave

in these cemeteries bursting


with light pollution

lens flare

litter and coffins



against each other at midnite—

in the City


we dig our own graves

and scamper

to nail ourselves in(out)


from the short blocks

and long alleys

beneath street lights coated


in grime, and skies

that will never be clear—

The City is hungry for more


yet always full

of life

given off by the dancing


corpses who came

because although you cannot see the stars

in the City,


the lights will never fade

and in the City

you are allowed to forget


death, and life multiplies

quicker than the piling of bodies.

In the City


something is bought

through all the lonely struggle

and starless nights, and I see


shadows cast by eternal flames

of the dead

in colors, vibrant


against the winter sky

of dead skyscrapers and cyclone fence.

Between heaven and earth


we find the City—

where night lasts forever

and the sky is a maw


eternally opening

foul and smeared tar,

and the corpses


swing and dance on—


to the blackness closing in—

these eternal flames


and swaying




to death and creation



One response to “In the City

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s