Poem Concrete Horizon Work in Progress
from image.
Tattered triangles are spread in lines
Round the caving rectangle of a car dealership -
Dulled in colour under the looming belly of the sky.
Tiger printed clouds fall beneath the weight,
Pressing on the structure. The make-shift flat-pack vessel
Is drowning in it's own insignificance, Zeus' thunderbolts
Hammering, kneading, crushing.
Floodlamps flicker towards sunset, and as the light bleeds
Through the sky, cars fold and compress, shimmering blood-like
Bonnets, body work, boots. Windshield rainbows crumble
A metallic graveyard, seeping into the earth beneath
The concrete horizon. And all of us, all there, standing at the checkout
Folding and collapsing into cardboard and bubble wrap
Surrendering, shrivelling, shrinking
In to shopping bags for the moon.
Tattered triangles are spread in lines
Round the caving rectangle of a car dealership -
Dulled in colour under the looming belly of the sky.
Tiger printed clouds fall beneath the weight,
Pressing on the structure. The make-shift flat-pack vessel
Is drowning in it's own insignificance, Zeus' thunderbolts
Hammering, kneading, crushing.
Floodlamps flicker towards sunset, and as the light bleeds
Through the sky, cars fold and compress, shimmering blood-like
Bonnets, body work, boots. Windshield rainbows crumble
A metallic graveyard, seeping into the earth beneath
The concrete horizon. And all of us, all there, standing at the checkout
Folding and collapsing into cardboard and bubble wrap
Surrendering, shrivelling, shrinking
In to shopping bags for the moon.