A brush of mortality
Visited me in the dead of night.
What if this place were to catch fire?
Which hastened window would I disturb?
Surveying my final scene, I was warmed
By the glow of the city lights,
Resting on the ground as electric plankton on a seabed
And the warm below
As though the world is a constant marionette
For an indifferent god.
No, no, what may I do to stop this place catching alight?
Almost as much as the triviality of our last
Conversation. In the heat of the moment
Deciding our direction, we kissed a passive kiss.
I’ll see you by the rosebuds,
And in your most wistful thoughts…
As I laugh at the ambulance siren in the distance.
Laughter. This was because the last time I saw it,
A German was choking on the street.
He was one of those god made in the image of the
And he and his wife are looking beaming
As tourists feeding off the sweat of the market seller
Thinking words are expendable,
Whilst I’m sitting here accepting the truth.
I am born to trouble as the sparks fly upward.
Let me be reborn a Kaiser
I’ll set the world alight.