Such Is The City

by Renwick Berchild

I cave backward at the knees,
Drown in the city.

Things that do not breathe take precedent over dreams.
Cannon fodder persuades, short dresses unravel into rape.

Humor bends the metal beams and pads the concrete,
But I sink inward at the cavity,
Fall in the city,
Fall and pull my eyelids low.

Hard, often too sweet;
The balls of my feet rot and my veins
Dry up, ‘Such is the city’ we all say.

I’ve a blood stain that doesn’t rub out.
Doesn’t run down my lampshades, doesn’t break upon the floor.

Caretakers lay the bodies outside in the street,
Then go cry to their mothers.
‘Such is the city’ we all continue.

I cave backward, run my charred fingers through my thinning hair.
Reach forward into darkness,
Clutch the chant,
‘Such is the city’
‘Such is the city’.

Music under buildings is the distinction of our poverty.
I choke on the notes,
Gag on the harmony,
The tone of my many small deaths
Ticking.

‘Such is the city’ I go on and on.
Such melancholy, tragic love.

The lights, they smother, boil and bake me.
‘Such is the city’,

Such is the heavy life.

2 Comments to “Such Is The City”

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