The Fall

The Fall

Between agony and bliss,

The Christ like bright labels,

Shimmering against the backdrop,

The rotating pop charts croaking

Through blown speakers,

Sprinkling their sweet scents over

Fruit and balding skulls.

Mustard packet of unknown age and volume,

Hidden among the dust and sticky substance

Of concatenated sugar.

Outside frozen with self-help hypnosis,

The cars and buses repeating

Geometric patterns blissfully,

The stench of 100 years of Americana/

Burning at the fleshy heart of its’ fat

And cynicism.

It is the food of television and whores,

It is the stuff of substance and emptiness,

A choir of angels proclaiming

The great trade off of the species,

Phallic and cunt of Greek suckling,

Their holy cites now long forgotten,

My holy self now long forgotten,

Wanton lust and the smack

Of rejection lingering scents and

Whispers now long forgotten/

everything glistening in new rain,

Starving masses buying smack

On rationed stamps, caked

Specks of wine on dry lips,

Praying and feeding on spit and anxiety.