Translate   9 years ago

Despici “Towns are after all excrescences, grey fluxions, where men, hurrying to find one another, have lost themselves.” Hurrying bustling rushing riding coffeeing Driving flying working working working Red. Dreamtime giants playing these crazed Bacchics, as their bitter cold pin-striped aromas speed, mix, prey the newspaper suffocating inside its cloth armour. And I, invisible, silent, simple sneak on past unnoticed. Curtain cloaked, six legs I walk, locust, while hooded men rush past, outside time. My time. Lost like the red-bricks, the train, the child covered in Carpe Diem. I sit alone, surrounded by faces transfixed on boxes. One man, one woman live on shifting coloured tiles, flying birds. You, young boy, The First, The Dream, The Lover, The Player, The Money-Maker Hungry for Greed — More isn’t enough. Your eyes are red and desperate, your fingers bitten and black. You crawl for money, prance for women, crumble for one last breath of the #life you threw away. All too soon. Then she, demon, warrior, liberator. Venisti, vidisti, vicisti the boy. New skin shrivelled around Cancer. Clouds of poison breaking, entering into lungs with no defence and I watch man ashamed. Gritted and buried in dirt and no emotion: This isn't our #life. The past is gone, the present eager, the future what they don’t want to know. Couples cover each other under towering stories trapped in brick, embracing to hide the pain in the eyes that know it’s the end. Layers of regret and anger as bands of boys vulture the girl that killed herself for them in the alley. In the sea of desks there’s a girl over there who everyone knows and can’t have a brain as she shan’t. And a black-haired boy holds all the cards and throws his hand down at the kid. I pass through this island one last time before I leave the #life I don’t own any more. My body drained of its #life, to the business, busyness of men at the top and women fighting to get there. Now I, a fume, low in the streets, am forgotten as neglected chimneys lay idle to the bustling mob that always just look down.

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