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urbaphobia
by Laura DoomThe street of windows gazed, glazed
as daylight broke from cover,
playing catch-up with the fog
of smothered dreams. Fresh air
slapped the faces of sullen flowers
while thickets of thieves and rapists
grew restless at the prospect
of unrequited perpetration.
The Church of Insurrection
thrust its middle finger into heaven,
examining hearts and minds
for evidence of faithlessness
according to the in-house journal
of euphemistic truth and mass affiliation.
My subliminal prayer is answered
when a gothic ringtone sleazes
through the clear and present tension,
mocks the erstwhile song of silence
and buries it
beneath a crude acoustic threshold
where it can be packed, tracked
and analysed to an early demise.
When next I emerge from hibernation
sleep will be a state
controlled and managed
as a means of public transport
to an end that accelerates my own. 09/30/2014 Posted on 09/30/2014
Copyright © 2024 Laura Doom
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 10/01/14 at 05:21 PM A poem for our times, me thinks. What with ISIS, etc. I also like the invention of a new word in the title. Well done, my friend. |
| Posted by Nadia Gilbert Kent on 10/02/14 at 04:19 PM The image of a thicket of thieves and rapists sticks. I might actually pay to see that, but only in a zoo where that type of ruckus belongs. In other words, this one is also good. In particular that second to last block. |
| Posted by Quentin S Clingerman on 10/10/14 at 03:59 PM I must agree with Chris. A poem for contemporary times. Unfortunately. But faith prevails for those who look beyond this "veil of tears" or mindless rebellion. |
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