I sat on the edge of my mouth
and watched this world twist and flutter
like a great wounded beast
wandering over the edge of town
everything indistinct,
implied only through the rumblings of dragons
swooping through the star-blown dimness
(the sky was dead today
the air leered and chuckled)
you have played broken pianos
in junkyards, danced wildly
to a fragment of glass on the beach
but in the end (after all the tragedy,
when the mermaids hung dead in the factory)
all that was left, the only reminder
scarred fingers flailing against
slow motion wings
.
.
.
