Half Fallen Leaves

 

In the valley of the broken

Where the lonely like to roam

Beetles scuttle across rivers of teeth,

Beggars usher the elements

And clouds hang in the sky

Like half fallen leaves

On a canopy of nothing.

 

In the basin of the ruined

Farmers with faces like fists

And milk hags with cream moustaches

Poke the world with glee,

The skies cry mud

And pottery scarecrows too scared to stay

Crack under pressure.

 

In the crevasse of the bankrupt

Taverns filled with bile and blood

Open their curses to strangers

And rot all the grasses and hedgerows,

Ducks inhale the silence

And the only life left

Is the groan of wasted memories.