Cruel mystic
Face emerges
A montage of peeling posters
Scratched and torn
And, on the terrace slow-dancing couples fuse and mutate
To Strangers in The Night
Anything…
Out, empty road
Faded millennia slipping away through time, as
The conscious mind becomes separated
From this flesh,
Distanced from my flaking skull
From
The edge
Distant, pale sphere echoing beyond
Subtopia (anything), anytime – anywhere
Now black bird alights on broken pillar
So slender, so upright
Croaking slogans
Harsh, the distant music…
© A.C. Evans
what was the date of birthday party at the round hhhhouse for ITadam
Comment by adam isch on 20 September, 2022 at 9:21 pmfour times i got bundles of papers an sold them on the kings rd