Dark Age Colonia

There is a long road
in front of me, pitched shadows
behind me, burning ruins
the dust sticks to you
the ashen remnants of humanity’s
last youth, uncover your eyes
there is naught but darkness here
nunca,
never,
again now.
there is no end
the road continues, endless turns
unending crossroads
belief or ignorance
quantified with spreading rot
the abandonment of hope
(remember the colonia)
what happened when Rome fell?
they emptied, those who stayed, starved.
Citizens dressed in rags,
creeping about in sunless darkness
history’s path is paved
by those who gave false offerings
this civilization cannot fall into an obsidian void
the cities sank into what they felt, rot and ruin
long-time been a fact
copper farthings, not enough for grain
fickle beasts
unconsciousness madness, still quiet air
while everything burns
your nose wrinkles
at the acrid odors
smoke rises from hewn hill-tops
the fires burn longer in the cities.


Hustler Club Coupon

Found a free coupon to the strip club
on the street next to some costume feathers
I wonder do they take cashier’s checks?
city long past the expiration date–
on this crumbling amalgamation,
so interwoven
so very near synchronicity
at the intersection of old downtown
where the people dance.
while the sky burns orange-yellows
thousand-year sun
old, will people grow?
amongst inarticulate ramblings
in midst of the beauty of decay
they’ve serene faces, placid with infirmity
dotting the sidewalks with impassioned
Brass instruments
mix with hot asphalt ravings, flesh sales
walking down Bourbon St
have you ever locked eyes with a stripper?
doorways into new neon life
fawning, falling.