by Mitchell Harrison
On your common rooftop
brace yourself against the battlements
that frame your cloaked horizon
Breathe the decay perfume
of the canalled city that has run
you to delirious suspense
Here you faced
and failed to conquer
your debts
Those petty interest rates
that mounted and rode
against your encouragements
Here you
will leave behind a procession
of oblivious mourners
And idle alchemists who unknowing
weep of the missed
connections you stoked
Face the echopraxic city
and by facing it face your own
death’s spur
The canted facades,
swollen cafés, marooned theaters
and rigored waters
All would make for you
a suitable funerary object for
your inept stand-up act
Though none would be so
fine as a filigree of
gold on the wing of a
dragonfly
****
Mitchell Harrison is a writer from La Porte, Indiana residing in Amsterdam. He is currently working on a series of novellas that take place in the city.