I can’t tell if its Regent St or Jupiter.
Blue ink from the Sahara.
Apartment blocks infested with cages.
Spiders screaming like birds.
Ancient houses, abandoned passions.
Kiosks for all the dull young men.
Shadows & Juliets, a thousand devils.
Smashed windows, broken stars, silent gardens.
Ridiculous songs from the past.
A fraudulent, symmetrical harmony.
Ruined boulevards: no commerce, no drama or comedy.
A fractured collection of infinite scenes.
A few people I used to know.
I stare at them blankly.
Brussels 1872 / London 2009
1 comment:
Wonderful. Many thanks. The "no commerce" is great - there's commerce, but no "commerce" between people. Or even no people. Unless they are all on Jupiter. Or ghosts.
The not Jupiter place is a place of things whose value is exchange, interchangeability at a price.
Keep going. On.
Regards
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