NEW POETIC ORDER

Sun still sets on old backstreet roads 

In the pavement cracks, weeds still grow

Beer cans and cigarettes pose upon walls 

Waiting for the wind to aid in their great fall 

Aging souls slumber in the tower block above 

And when they pass,  the sky shall caress doves 

But until then they’ll be inside making love 

And if they’re feeling frisky they’ll put on a glove 

Listen to music, breathe through pipes, and use syringes, 

But there’s no time in the week for weekend binges 

The bank holiday is over and the first working day is done 

Erebus, Nyx, and CHAOS stay up over the setting sun.