the town air is still more insipid than I remember
the decaying laid to rest in ranch homes and townhouses
and more recently underground
the cold, dry and tasteless, leeches life from the bones
for the slowing heart of these abandoned streets
where families, unaware, come to their slaughter
cloven by the allure of death
hanging in the wind
the husks of the trapped wander
and masquerade the bar stool seats
of have-nots, should-have-beens, and glory days of yesteryear
and all i can do is shake the black powder from my shoes
for this stop on my travels
this shadow of a city
i've no reason to return
Dec 27, 2012
Dec 27, 2012 at 2:02 AM UTC
the town air is still more insipid than I remember
the decaying laid to rest in ranch homes and townhouses
and more recently underground
the cold, dry and tasteless, leeches life from the bones
for the slowing heart of these abandoned streets
where families, unaware, come to their slaughter
cloven by the allure of death
hanging in the wind
the husks of the trapped wander
and masquerade the bar stool seats
of have-nots, should-have-beens, and glory days of yesteryear
and all i can do is shake the black powder from my shoes
for this stop on my travels
this shadow of a city
i've no reason to return
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