Tuesday, 31 May 2022

Poem: 'Death Is An Important Number'

 




DEATH IS AN IMPORTANT NUMBER/ 
LAST OF THE SHADOW MEN
 

in the romance of theft 
I steal for you what you need, 
we are transient bones 
with skulls behind our eyes, 
we are echoes in the deathhouse, 
yet while we live this despair 
I feed you as I can, 
drugs, burgers, pizza, medication, 
is this the sound of tomorrow 
or just sound? 
if they play this at Glastonbury 
would they dance? 
when I have nothing to give 
I will give you sad poems 
and abstract art made up of 
indelicate syllables, 
in light as chill as the moon, 
I want to gift you wonders 
yet I feed you trash 
bruise-fresh in frozen ripeness


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