Fragments of Chance Chronos


The wind had  cruel fingers, scooping.

A shop on a little known street, left like grubbied gum

Pea soup fog, visibility reduced to less than a stub’s length


Which of seven deadly sins is..

most genuine?

Which one is grown up?


Tug with bright streets at lonely lights, scoped lens like these

All is given to the cadmium, neon, molten-red obscurity

A single direction of screech

A mumble latent in the music of the disgruntled


Which commuting mortals dream of,

but angled angels inside know.

This is for them.


2 thoughts on “Fragments of Chance Chronos

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s