This city

 

 

From Kandinsky

to Leonardo

this city sweats

genius.

 

But today

I’m obsessed

by hair colour

leg length, accent:

 

the girls swirl

across cracked

paving like

new morning.

 

Each one

breathes hope

into lover’s ear;

I’m adrift in

 

sunlight.

 

This city seeps

genius: dead busts

stare bronze

to copper

 

generations

tumble,

left

nameless.

 

Only the men

march on:

dicks at

attention.

 

 

Listen here

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.