smoke and alabaster the purity of revelation
baby powder and snow east and west, dawn and evening
honey dew and mint cream the illusion of perfection
ivory and seashell surrender and treachery
old lace and linen the white knight
lavender blush and ghost dead-white faces
floral white and corn silk cowardice and cold
parchment and pointing the second stage of the Great Work
champagne and vanilla virgin sacrifice
cosmic latte and glitter mercury poisoning
magnolia and pearl the boredom of waiting
flax, eggshell and bone death rides a pale horse
For the city that speeds, tail to nose
to a scalloped shore and meets with light.
For the city in frozen motion, tarnished
wings poised to embrace the night.
For the city that parties with a glittering heart
but is never satisfied and every morning seeks
enlightenment, the river unwinding
a scrambled horizon to the rising sun.
For the city that guards south from north,
brick to chink, indivisible, a fortress spawning
iron ships for capitalist wars.
The great angel grounded hope
for these iridescent folk seeking stars
and rainbow moons shining in the gutters
of wet streets between discarded kebabs and shit.
The city folk way too stupid, way too smart
to give up looking for an out, in black and white
running easy, gunning for a fight, living
for another goal and one more Saturday night.
For the city where shops are poly-chrome heaven
and bars ooze overflow. The coffee bubbles
froth and bile, the stories spike with rhyme
and folk soak in the sun at picnic tables
while dogs scamper on green swards.
Rebels serenade and lovers dance
unashamed, in the city, for the city,
for the brave.