Speckless blackening gape,
Above turrets, towers and escalators
Without any greying moon
Mazes of terraces and guttering,
Chimneys black, emitting no smoke.
Rising damp, inadequate pipes
Only gardens the weeds between paving slabs
Children in firey-lit streets,
Starting wars after curfew.
The shards of broken windows,
Lost contraceptives and liquor
Carpeting the roads
Partners so distant in their matrimony,
Conversationless and cold
Secluded like the flickering streetlights,
Wine spilt on the table cloth,
Never touching at clockwork bedtimes
Hollow-gazed girl trembling in the restive night,
Hiding in twisted, clammy sheets,
Mind stopped with a cork, silence assured.
Footsteps on the landing
Dreaded knock at the door.
Outside someone sings,
As though the world is pretty -
Ah, beauty through a green bottle.
Dark peppered moth travelling into starless,
Gaping black without moon,
Looking down, disturbed,
At the desolation too soon
Points:
Time spent:
Canary word: Present
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Original Text:
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125,018 Literary Works • 672,857 Reviews
This was thick to read, but most definitely worth it. I think the feeling would be lifted a bit if it were easier, but then again, I cannot beg aganist a challenge. This is not airy - down-to-earth and fullfilling, I enjoyed every line wholly.