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Image for the poem only my heart is not in isolation

only my heart is not in isolation

Tracing the burglars’ route:
Oh so quiet streets
Aborted-fucking alleys,
Slumped junkies
Who would inject corona.

Homeless man burns away
The love he ever held for the world
A match strikes a for(f)ever
Midnight of his mind.

The roundabouts
Are empty of traffic.

Some story is closing
Round circular tale,
Eternal serpents
Whisper a doing
That never stops.

The Guardian may merrily say:
We look to graffiti for the
Language we use –
Terry hearts June
Buzzards of sprayed paint
Flicker from train flight
Urban hieroglyphics
On hollow concrete
;
Cinders of Alexandria Library
Will en flame and cremate us.

We write o’er evening arch
Sat on oak'ed balustrade
As trembling blue stars
On terrace edge:
Bones splinter against cliff,
Tremulous words finally,
Found in translation.

It was always
God willed
Meant to be this way?

You are so far,
Yet
So near
I can taste
All of you.

#ERULGCT 10

Pic. Social media news
Strangeways_Rob
Written by Strangeways_Rob
Published
Author's Note
#Umanoid. I usually content with a near hermit existence, but the fear permeating the earth, is unsettling. Almost tangible. With you I walk XX STAY SAFE ALL.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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