A Culture

While innocence of peacefulness
Ran by in its wide carriage
Holding a chaotic past
Bearing witness to scraping of streets
With drunken feet
Passing deep thirsty girls by
Soothing their lady loneliness
(Perhaps each claiming a place for herself
At the booth of single darkness)
Against their lovers’ man hands
Both speaking spirit breath
Into each other’s heaven-reached faces

Whence they drowned their tongues
And bit into hip-hop firmament
Where coloured spotlights fought the night
And Him on the spinning pedestal
Who foddered music to their arms and feet

Whence they milked paper sticks
And blew ashen shots
Under blue lights
And their speak floated
Through the intercourse of other smoggy speeches

There, they came
From a jungle cleft
In a flood covered in youth skin
Of opened mouths and oblivion
Pining for the next story
To be spit into their longing ears