a dragon’s beak fixated
the eye shrapnel
like the moon without black iris
light whose day never expires
ill defined green night
medusa gazes down
anxious bursts of flaming mushrooms
on pedestals of shadows
only the after effect ever occurred
these walls of mighty troy
rise like the flood

voyeuristic angels stare
from within the windows
not from the inside out, but outside in
like whores from behind the freedom of their curtains
at the horizon
columns of gold
burnt down like ephese
horrendous shrieks
seconds in eternity
stream below these windows

vega single star all stars fallen
the melted day
stains like car horns
heretic shrouds of milky clouds
the whores again behind their windows
i cannot torn their ass apart
these mussels of goodness
remain closed
i here in the enclosed open
on my chest, on my back
fragile with forsaken gesture
alone in spasms of nothingness
their nightmare
their delivery

oh pray for civic chivalric cybele
to escape me and my nightly cruelty
the clouds drift by
like sand running through my fingers
measuring time
but i leave nothing standing
i alone and one star beneath me
the water’s rush of traffic
blind and burning windows
flickering amber
the sea awaits me
for ten long years
the siren’s song sings
in the ruffle of leaves
her naked breasts i suckle from
the maenadic orgy of the bronze night
i the orphan

Tom Baker, Village Night Song (for Langston Hughes)