la smith (for no particular reason)

In the avenue of the armistice

war has damaged the graves of the peacemakers

Me and some fading actress lying drunken underneath the plane trees

Our fingers are dripping lemon and salt in the sea air

Above us mackerel cloud and salmon sunset

Below us white river upon black swan

Sentry upon century

Mausoleums loom up suddenly emptying us of our mirth and our fucking chuckle

We stumble all the stagger way home clutching our bottle of nepenthe like it was an oracle or a lamb

On the darkening streets the new night is warm and stormy

A certain recklessness has filled the quickened city

More than ever the moon filled sky presses up to windows to gaze in

We meet our friends the acrobat Lucid and Mallet the carpenter in a park

Torches fire across the harbour and the reflections of smoke swim on the sea

Some strange drug has numbed my tongue and I hum dumbly

Some distant star has crossed my path I can feel it rather halved

The revelers dressed as ghosts called out for more music and thus it begins

The big drum pounding in my veined interior mirror

We glide over fogged time pieces lay forever shattered

At the Splendid Bull with the decantered wonderful wine of Wednesday now gone

And the faded flotsam and jaded jetsam cast away out of the Emperors sight

A time of long sleeps and small dreams