Beyond the point of no return
where the heartlands meet the high moral ground
an ambivalent couple watches, transfixed
as the setting sun congeals
preserving the essence of everyday life
in a twilight of eternal stasis.

Two's company, they say
behind the closed doors
of smirk-filled rooms

Three or more allows compliance
a free reign - the king is deaf
long live the cream...

...the risen, anonymous individuals,
just names in the crowd,
striving to remain faceless...

they blur their faces
and smudge their souls
until they become wet ash
on the forehead of humanity
desperately trying to give themselves
up for Lent.

Shapeless shadows sweep
deserted city streets
the wind of small change
eating into prophets predicting
a stock market stampede
masked ranks of subsidised smiles
preparing for the kill
in a fast-food frenzy
boasting a menu
of junk males and unsolicited females.

Greedily they stuff gold in the hole
where their souls once lived
until their gut bloats
and their buttons pop
and they die under the
weight of the idols they swallowed.

Unwilling to suspend belief
the happily disengaged couple
exchange contracts, trade futures
and leave without ceremony
in opposite directions, to seek
the sleeping partners of their dreams

But the echoes of absent kisses
stick in their throats
and flesh only stretches so far.
Tripping over clotted sunbeams
they fall back into reality
just in time to pay utilities.

04/28/2005

Author's Note: Collaboration with Max - definitely time he was brought down to my level :)

Posted on 04/28/2005
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