Toronto, 08.09.11


We all saw her scream—

the Russian queen from Lisbon

in Persian rugs and copper art;       her chemicals

feasting on the blood of the insane as she stood unaware

in tired mutations of the same dream, sifting

through endless silos at the speed of light,

static as a rock. 

Slums, big as mansions, lay small under the night sky

as luscious manifestations oozed out of towers in Berlin,

through the sprawling streets of Tokyo and Teheran. 

Screens pegged the masses, shining like the Mongolian desert, 

as sizzling Kashmirs chased the icebergs north of 60.

                             And the willow tree stood there weeping

                                       like a willow tree.

                             And the moon shunned like the moon. 

                             And the stars shunned like the stars.


"b-side" was first published by the Rain, Party and Disaster

Society  (Volume I, Issue X, 01.11.14).

exitD90 Ⓒ 2010-2018 by mezi