Vacancy

 
Torn wings cast down
Trampled on hot bitumen
Half an opened cage reveals a red heart

Into the sweated airs of a grasping city
Dishonest feet scorched by the blackened land
A crippled claw scratches at liquid tips of sea

In the green port of Elsewhere
Might we find;
2 black-headed gulls

Wheeling over a putrid eel
Your salvation
My damnation

Can we go on
Alone
If I must.

But the body is lost

27.05.10