A Tale of Two Cities

In the bright city

     coins are mermaids flung into glittering fountains

     arches are triumphant triangles thrown over rivers of stone

     shoes are winged and fringed with delight and fresh ginger

In the dark city

     pavements glisten with uneasy lachrymose oils

     angels look down from rooftops with eyes the colour of mud

     hatstands are capable of delivering wounds unceasing

In the bright city

     weddings occur every day clothed in primrose and gold

     hotels welcome a host of lithe-limbed unseeing guests

     green grass grows in improbable beds of gold

In the dark city

     rusty drops patter on vistas of corrugated iron

     ancient kitchen taps gurgle a lament of exhaustion

     silent staccato piano keys hammer the death of love

In the bright city

     feasts of illusion sway along diamond thoroughfares

     fire-eaters breathe their blazing breath on every street corner

     no infant crocodile is worth more than any other

In the dark city

     yellow girders and iron helices interleave their cutting edges

     the moon shouts a greeting of cold insult on desperate mornings

     striped cats strut mangling their fur on the wire

In the bright city

     I sat on thrones of deepest purple with my love and wept

     I flew higher than the illustrious ornamented birds and sobbed

     I swam in the tides of the Great River and I cried

In the dark city

     I was drenched by the gutters of ecstasy and I smiled

     I leant on the collapsed crashed elm of many branches and I grinned

     I spoke with the crone of despair     and I laughed.