Beneath her feet, the city
gossips, tarmac tongues whispering
the hymn of her returning.
Every sodden yard of hard-mooned
kerbstone unfurls to her insoles,
black locale knows the girl
& her swell cobalt mind
so well: the hackneyed princess
of slagheaps and monolithic
mole-hills of one-mil syringes.
Doom-town stare of a million
methadone-dawns.
– Miggy Angel
(I just wrote this lil orphan fragment off the top of my head – and as I’m trying to post here regularly again and cultivate a consistent writing practice I thought I’d share it with yous – the above artwork is by one of my fav artists: Gottfried Helnwein. Check his art out it is incredible.)
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they seamlessly work together, what a find in Helnwein, I’ve been open mouthed staring and searching his work, amazing.
Thanks Abbie glad you like and thanks for commenting – I have many more fav visual artists I am going to be posting here – maybe using images for writing prompts too! Do check back in again – all the best – Miggy
I love the rhythm here, especially ‘the hymn of her returning’. More of these, you’re quite a visual poet so it seems natural that you would respond to the imagery.
Thanks for reading Jen – hope you good my friend