A
Filthy Fairytale
The
regurgitating bass precedes your arrival,
a wedding march for the disenchanted;
vibrating through the smeared windows,
echoing in these dank dirty streets.
a wedding march for the disenchanted;
vibrating through the smeared windows,
echoing in these dank dirty streets.
Your
red rusted micra, a pumpkin carriage,
taking us away to seedy alleys
so that our bestial tryst can continue,
beautiful in its malevolence.
taking us away to seedy alleys
so that our bestial tryst can continue,
beautiful in its malevolence.
The
windscreen crackles with frost,
a glass coffin encasing us.
There is no true love's kiss, no beauty in this.
a glass coffin encasing us.
There is no true love's kiss, no beauty in this.
Kirsty
A Niven
Kirsty
A. Niven is from Dundee, Scotland. Her poetry has appeared in numerous
publications, including The Machinery, The Dawntreader, Dundee
Writes and Laldy!
Tags:
Poetry
Only the best writers can get away with what you just did. This might be the most impressive poem I have read in this journal.
ReplyDeleteFayid Khan