Sta.sh
A crimson velvet undercuts the evening sky,
Moon drips through clouds as if through a colander,
The dying sunset sets each puddle ablaze,
They burn like eastern oils, lending each street its own fragrant vapour,
A labyrinth of palpable atmospheres.
The sun finally collapses into night and the whole town rumbles like the belly of a drunk,
It wobbles on toddlers legs before dropping and shattering into a myriad of dreamscapes.
Put your ear to the ground and you'll hear the merciless heartbeat,
Someone, someday will drive a nuclear finger into its pulsating centre,
An act that will no doubt ease up congestion.
Yet still the dogs are hunting,
And the vultures are circulating,
Each bar and club a butchers shop,
The windows frosted with rancid jizzom,
"You've seen it on the billboards boys, and here it is,
Two dimensional, just as they promised"
| Deviant Login | Shop |
 | Join deviantART for FREE  |
Take the Tour  |
How have you been?
on 
