Stories of the Street

What’s with you sister libertine?

Wishing your hopeless ghost onto the silver screen
Where are you hiding the jewel at your core -
that mystery that entrances the boy on the village green
Do you really believe that all is equal in love and war?

What about you brother broken and free?

Sticking it to whoever is there in the haze of the night
Kicking your heals in the emptiness of morning
Without the expectation of love you cannot be right
When you see what you see but do not heed the warning

And the street will know your name...

Written in vomit blood piss gum and semen
Shouted out loud against the face of the cameras
Grainy and grey and so common you can’t see them
Yet delivering your soul to frighten the neighbours

And what of the threads that hold us together?

Do we huddle together to shelter the storm?
Do we walk down invisible expecting to fly?
Do you bite and kick to get your hands on the norm,
advertised on the screen embedded in your eye?

The past is not so long ago,
Lost short-term history tells a tale
Of an aging species all but gone to seed
Short of sight and hard of hearing
Stumbling down the street unable to remember
... its home address.