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X-Mas Party Favour
it hasn't been so very long
since the times & days
when we threw
our sex at each other
both without aim or accuracy –
fumbling in the
dark,
with my head blown
apart
and my kiss on your
gun
like a holiday
tart,
excruciatingly saccharine
Urban Lunacy
I
think this must be it…
as
far as we can travel
the
nights are cold
but
not as bold
as
they used to be
(it’s
almost a full moon almost a full moon almost a full moon almost)
the
pavements are slick with scales and skin
they
are engorged
fed
with the flesh and bones
of
our sanity, our humanity
the
city’s epicenter
a
Gorgon head
of
venomous mouths
that
feed and bleed each other
(it’s
almost a full moon almost a full moon almost a full moon almost)
at
night sometimes tongues forget their violent purpose
and
lie softly in their enamel cages
this
is how the streets lie
like
amnesiac demons
who
may or may not find their way back to Hell
(it’s
almost a full moon almost a full moon almost a full moon almost)
when
there is no one left to lie to
you
can lie to yourself
lie
softly to yourself
in
the night
in
the dark
lie
Alex Maeve Campbell lives in Toronto,
ON, Canada.
She is a Co-Editor of Descant
Magazine, and is sometimes also considered a poet, a musician, or an
ex-highland dancer.
muse1979@hotmail.com
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