fahye | (no subject)

Entry tags:

poetry

(no subject)

written on the 423 down Castlereagh

the city is a glittering, aching, clawing thing
with bats strung between buildings in the blue dusk
not fighting crime but reporting it:
from glass to glass their sonar shout
a ricochet of breaking waves
sketching the airways of the beast

and every voice you hear is the city's voice
she speaks in tongues
tongues of devil men and downtreading
and uplooking and sidewalking

nightly buildings tesselate the sky

you walk faster in the city
nicer dress, painted lips, higher heels
faster faster faster click click
the city speaks in soles and cement

and every person that you pass
is living in a different city

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you know I love love poetry about cities. :)

This could have been SO MUCH LONGER except then it was my stop so I had to get off the bus :)

I have so many poems that are the length they are because the bus showed up or my boss told me to get back to work.

ONE DAY, Fahye, they'll analyse our poems in classes and teachers will ask why the poem ends in mid-sentence and kids will work hard and one will email me and I will tell them the truth; I GOT BORED.

(It is excellent)

I think you would like Sydney. It has a much younger, sharper vibe than London, like it has an inferiority complex and possibly a drug problem. And it really does have bats!

I think I probably would. I need to get over my Thing about airports so I can visit.

guh.

*waves hands incoherently at you*

This is gorgeous. I especially love the last two lines, and this:

nightly buildings tesselate the sky

yessssssssssSSSss <3

i love waxing poetic about the city

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