The City

2 August 2013

Beckoned by the bright lights,
powered by those who came before,
Who’s eyes arched skywards just like yours.

A swarm centres in on the city,
Its beady eyes as one approaching.
Vast, misguided and ripe for plucking, sifting and crushing
With the most delicate and rewarding touch.

Set upon this chosen course
By those giddy with your promise on their breath.
Just another sip of your sweetness and so the city swells out,
This belly once more pregnant and slowly turning sour.

Beckoned by the bright lights,
Powered by those who came before,
Who’s eyes arched skywards just like yours.
Teased in by the wolf
Who’s monstrous intake of breath
took with it all the little piggies.

And so the swarms grow thinner
As they follow tales of ascension,
Spouted by the screens that hold their attention,
Dragged by some endless need to be
Better than they need to be
Because of stories woven by the swarms that soured.

Soon the city will be ready to burst
Showering it’s empty promise to the soil
Where it might just anchor, take hold and spark
In silence.