Alexis Child
Artwork by Bob Veon

At the crossroads of twilight, the city is coffined

beneath the weight of blood and bone. Stolen

joys where no rest reposes, burrow in stale

boudoirs. Weeping faces like drowned funerary

bells excavate wild fears waiting for all.

Stone-carved dreams rise like tall ghosts wearing

tatters drinking life like death. Bat-wings of boredom

thrust us on as if the devil sputters in our chamber,

orgiastic with greed. Candles fade to black like long

sobs, charged with goodbyes in communion with a

fading god burdened by giant wings.

Copyright 2006, Alexis Child