July 17, 2024Metropolis with Ghazal
Come walk with me through the bones of this bustling city.
Time hedges its bets in the spit-spatter of this hustling city.
On the streets, fragrance is rampant. Catharsis of us, strained
through the finely-woven forgetfulness of this muslin city.
A silent movie plays at the Regal. Speak to me of silence,
lest I scream mercy in the bare fangs of this cuspid city.
You and me at the speed of sound. Leave behind a note
for me in the rich, riotous libraries of this lovesick city.
There is a war on TV. The ratings are high. Lay down
your arms for me, in the bravado of this muscling city.
Mythology’s all the rage. The disco dance of antiquities.
It prospers florid as the footnotes to this tussling city.
Jesus speaks to me from a mosque that peals with temple
bells, deep in the wide-eyed throb of this puzzling city.
Siddharth, you should leave prophecy behind. Sing, write,
scream, prosper. Tonight, dream up this druglicked city.
from #84 – The Ghazal