they died for beauty
beneath the union street bridge;
kind enough to leave their last words
written in silver against black
aerosol etchings and faceless
kilroys.
the sun sets snowing, what remains
of our little light has left; our skins
crawl away to a new dawn.
oh mother,
oh captain,
we should have stayed home;
Death is a snake in the grass,
we are barefoot children running.
to die for beauty,
stop-sign cemetaries, processions
through shard glass tombstones,
this cities river tracing grace and
her fingers down my back,
glinting amber seraphim, violet
dawn sculptures,
oh captain,
why can't i?













Comments
thank you for reading
her fingers down my back,
glinting amber seraphim,
very much. the ending maybe is the weakest part.
her fingers down my back
is by far my favourite: i like the comparison between the two, I like the perfect juxtaposition between the very large and ancient and the small and fleeting. I think you meant city's though, hyphenation nerd that I am.
'Oh captain' could be al lot more powerful if the link between the two times it is quoted were clearer.
Futher development is needed of the stop-sign cemetaries, or something, to make the dying for beauty thing feel worthwhile, convincing.
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