I wanted to see myself up
that Neon Blue escalator
(to Five Guys); in the new builds of London
Victoria; in Five Guys I devoured
a portion of Cajun-fries with an air of being
so cool somehow a future They — entering
that promise of immersive glass and stainless
Science fiction dwelling. All-goods towers
in domed recesses—for the prosperous)
Triumphant now, I wanted to see myself
down that Neon Blue escalator
into the innards of the old
Victoria station whereabouts:
when a lump there I descried
a curled body taken for granted
gone under hood and fully zipped
coat: — a Fentanyl form
bowing to the abyss:
A woman espied:
that hand is a woman’s
hand. That tore me; that
vision of woman [Like me].
Let me help you [I wanted];
I want to give you: —we are loved—
like it says in books. Instead:
I dropped my voice into the melting
pot of Victoria stage (there-where
blanketed souls scurry complacent
from nook to nook speeding
to their floor cubbyholes, branded
home under the black bat, warmed
alcoves——all night
malls).
I was one with my Cajun-seasoned
belly complacent I had some form
of Fentanyl poetry within
as I bowed to my own
Abyss I call Inaction.
So Mark, tell me,
—Will I pass through?
Will I enter the kingdom?
So Luke, tell me,
—Will I be carried
into Abraham’s bosom
—comforted—?
It was that neon blue
that attracted me. I wanted
to see myself up the new
But in truth
it took me down
into her place
.
Vanessa Vie
Picture Nick Victor
.