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The city festers, a bleeding wound. Its scars consume lost souls, part of slow decay.

June 15, 2021

I pulled the desert over my eyes
and sank deep into the sand
blood of tulips ran over
making furrows in the land
Martians were here all night
singing paeans to their high priest
they asked me for my insurance
they asked me for my blood group
they asked me for power of my glasses

alas! all were missing
they tossed me into no land
there sea had no water
there sky had no air
yet I smelt of jasmine
yet I smelt of fresh spring
narcissus under twilight
and the nightingale set free