An arid city skyline spread out behind section eight project housing. The inner-city breeze bled black transparency through the urban maple's glisten. Through a tumult of scattered shadows refracted off poignant skyscraper rooftops. Sweltered city streets bred frugal hope and endless futility; abandoned promises and reconciled reckoning.
Noah's ancient ark's fragments carelessly distributed throughout native garage establishments. Industrial steel playground facilities and embedded silver parking-lot routines; afternoon sweat beams razor-sharp heat off patriotic edifice countenances; a native sun submits inevitable life to a counterfeit populace. Plaza fountain masonry dribbles grayish mortar off dampened sedimentary cisterns. Autumn trees slumber in summer gusts of subtle wind off the vast Atlantic perimeter; an unrewarded coastal penitence.
Prayer readings in quaint non-electric corridors. Humble installments made daily below seven-branched candelabra; silently etched towards placid evening . The atmosphere's delicate phosphorescence dwindles majestically down a brass-frame horizon. But what vulnerable metals and frail materials are we to work with, oh ye of little faith? The migrant swallows sordidly circle round a windswept dooryard. Forlorn lady of casual providence in modern exile; pre-madonna of rural upstairs balconies;
Let us go through backyard kitchen vestibules out to the ravenous night ; where ominous wind whispers nocturnal secrets of transmigration.
Harlequin Angels ( Vol.1)
Be condemned then; and keep on living. Now is forever; as the son of man.
What was in her heart tore her apart. He being part of her,
threw away what came on tranquil days of gluttony.
My soul is not to blame; it is framed in picture.
What hangs from familiar walls of unimaginable sorrow?
Maternal candle-light warmed the vacant sill.
Below dark drapery that hides the day.
from blind eyes and warped minds of miserable sinners;
it is they who suffice the harlequin angels insatiable appetite.
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