Misplaced the clock hands,
I am late for my resignation.
Cower under moonlight bombshells,
the war blitz has come for us all.
The sky gods awakened they boom,
and they howl,
but for all that they protest,
the crowd will not be quelled.
I sing to the barman,
jolly in a fit of stumbling intoxication,
knowing i'm a mockery of public indoctrination.
He's exasperated at my drunken haze,
so he kicks me out half past dawn,
amidst the lonesome night-turn-day rays.
I am sat on the curb of my dirty alley,
Streetlight's' flickering,
and city crawling with distant rumbles,
the sky full of darkening grumbles.
Lone dogs with one eye and cats with smog for breath accompany me,
as I spin tales of the forbidden,
to the shadows on the walls of this on this crumbling street.
The eyes from darkened windows follow me.
Angrily mumbling about pesky immigrants.
My voice is deaf in song,
I cannot be told wrong.
YOU ARE READING
Coherence
PoetryThis is a poetry collection that is both ever updating and ever changing. This collection of poetry isn't exactly traditional or ever a solid complete piece of prose, I am ever adding and changing and morphing them into something I feel is better or...
