Black
skies at noon
Slice
through office blocks.
Up
a forgotten passage
In
a quiet doorway
A
resting god
Opens
its eyes
And
follows the smog
To
the edge of the last light
As
the city is stoppered
With
an ice black cork.
The
god is tired of new lives –
It
just wants this one
Plastic
ruby eyes
Rimmed
with gold leaf
Decide
to halt
The
descending wrath.
A
man disturbs the god
As
a tube light flickers on
A
client has arrived
To
buy space for Commerce One
The
god shuts its eyes –
Arrested
by the presence of a man
Rules
oblige it to act
Only
when it cannot be seen.
The
wet cold plug expands
Sealing
the city shut
Twenty
million mouths turn blue
As
a suffocated civilization ends.
Centuries
later, steel drills at noon
Shatter
through office blocks.
An
expedition for oil strikes rich -
Thick
fountains of chilled blood
Pirouette
in the white, sun bleached sky.
Up
a forgotten passage
In
a quiet doorway
A
resting god
Opens
its eyes
And
follows the whirling blades
To
the edge of the red light.
A version of this poem (‘The Resting God’) appeared in Towers of Silence (A limited edition chapbook , published by
Aark Arts).
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