DEEPLY
In the dream space, intersillient figures cut
through tendrils of smoke, each beat takes on
new meanings, and reality is your audience.
Delivering long, uneven lines, we’re all friends,
our issues issuing from us, deeply shallow.
No more problems. Your debit card doesn’t serve
its old purpose anymore, and the figures
in the cobalt blue grow ever tantalising.
You battle it out with the hasty clock,
eyes wide, admitting newfound natural light.
Awake. Organs ravaged. Flecks of rain
on the sill. Outside, sober citizens struggling
with their umbrellas, which bloom like black roses.
Alone, frightened, nameless in this stinking hole,
the figure beside you too obvious, emerged.
And there, brink of despair, you are the audience,
viewing yourself in the harshness of day.
This poem features in my novel CINNAMON TWIGS: THE LIFE AND PSEUDOCIDE OF A CELEBRITY. It's cheap and I'd love you to take a look : )
http://www.kobobooks.com/ebook/Cinnamon-Twigs/book-9Uokd8GnEEOVoIj2_aFtyg/page1.html?s=KixwgX3Q7UunELDAgj-n3g&r=1
http://www.amazon.com/Cinnamon-Twigs-Pseudocide-Celebrity-ebook/dp/B00CC0JKL6/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1367255689&sr=8-1&keywords=cinnamon+twigs
http://www.lulu.com/shop/darren-freebury-jones/cinnamon-twigs-the-life-and-pseudocide-of-a-celebrity/ebook/product-20984838.html
http://www.scribd.com/doc/137321682/C...
