About To Appear



The Night wraps itself around the forms we wear

Something awfully cold about to appear,


Someone speaking names on a screen on a hill

Movies spitting frames lies obscene as they will

Spill over the damned as the air falls chill,


Automatons of an ersatz Golden Babylon:


Compose blank orders/enumerated columns folding in
Building a world of/oh never mind, let the dryers spin,


There are fields of molten stars burning through our skin
Soulless fiends with big cigars fat upon our thin
Lighting money on our chars, that and all the spin,


Wake up and sleep the daze in coils electronic
Spoils wail and weep the days become demonic,

The evening fills with ghosts and angels are near
As Night wraps itself around the forms we wear . . .








Poetry by Chaucer Whethers The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 474 times
Written on 2025-07-21 at 11:32

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