CAPOLINEA
The grinding motors of decaying engines
Panted in ever shorter gasps on the voyage to the “capolinea”
And the doors in the corridor passways
Swung open and closed, biting the green-yellow light of need
Seeping in through the lacunae of an afternoon of un-affection.
Here lamenting sighs of obese monsters were carried away
Over backward sucking tracks covered with spit and urine
And the cries of spoiled over-fed and un-cared for infants
Punctuated its incessant pull, mistaken for prayers of Aeneas.
The air was wet with sugary juices dripping from their mouths
Which had already sucked out too much from Mother Earth
And their comic books were filled with old coloured obscenities
Rotting putrefied images of the Demiurge’s great untouchables.
Stinking incomplete phrases were vomited up onto membranous spheres
From an underworld of sulphur and smoke
Vomited up onto the doorsteps of the passing stations of life
Where poor miserable and violent creatures waited
In a raging hurricane of hate and wickedness
Whose centre was a blackened hole in a storm of madness.
The oxygen of life was pulled out of the vegetation
Now cancerous cankerous parenchyma no longer green
As death tried to re-create itself outside itself
In a final futile attempt to feel an instant of life
Insane within the rumbling white dust of loss and negation.
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