literature

Ruin

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Paul-Cooper's avatar
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Literature Text

This sluice of swamp,
weed-throttled and starred
by lilies – mossed benches
lit by lichen like a night of fireworks
and the dregs of forgotten picnics
lost to sleep crumbs.

The gunfire of a diesel ticking over,
heaping sods of dry earth – teeth
polished to a gleam of blue steel
by sparked stones.
Engines row against the earth,
snarling it with mesh and acetate,
pestling stone to powder under tangerine totems
riddled like the sides of bullet-flecked tanks  
straining at their hydraulic sinew.

In the ruins where we
cricked our necks,
lost in the tent of shadows
where we strung candles and
the brambles still search
over sheaves of broken bricks.
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