Cityscape Silhouettes

The sinful playacting of the leaders insists on crowing over empty victories, and words without being versed are cremated on the despoiled landscape; Elsewhere, night steps up on every toe and hangs fire. All roads and lanes want bold footprints, it will not matter whose, the wind’s shrilling summons convivial light on the blurry faces and their doleful cries struggle to reach far and beyond. Under the shade of sodium vapour lamps, bodies morph from poor to rich, living to dead, the rush of blue lights distils on the discoloured skin of the mannequins; the city scrawls and scratches on the marbles of the palace and cenotaph.