Hill's Yard (with JohnFeddeler)

I walk the abandoned tracks at night, hungry, addicted to shadows.
Hill's Yard, the wrong side of every town,
a steel boneyard where prosperity came to die,
is nothing but a low howl on a restless wind,
the rumble of phantom storms.

Tracks that run to points unknown
old brick walls mural'd by spray can artists
the vagrant ghosts who wander here
they ride the trains, and I ride too
till they shout at me, get off!

But flesh is more dangerous than the ethereal
I met a man once
his eyes pierced my blue dress
his kisses laid claim to my impetuous heart

He took all of me
then left me to be wasted
by drifters and criminals
whose only concept of love was sex
garnered and thrown off, easy as a condom

So I come to Hill's Yard, caressed among the specters.
What a sad woman I am
full of sorrow and woe, and nowhere to go
held in the arms of a ghost.      

(Artwork: Dream/time)