07-29-2013, 02:45 AM
A boarded-up building,
its boards defaced,
in an empty street laced with silence
at dusk.
What is so painfully beautiful about this,
as the sinking sun assures ancient times
that this time too will pass?
The crudely drawn man on one of the boards,
beside some farce about reclaiming masculinity,
might as well be chicken scratch on a cave wall,
by an artist who soon, in the open, will die.
I want to cry, but won't.
its boards defaced,
in an empty street laced with silence
at dusk.
What is so painfully beautiful about this,
as the sinking sun assures ancient times
that this time too will pass?
The crudely drawn man on one of the boards,
beside some farce about reclaiming masculinity,
might as well be chicken scratch on a cave wall,
by an artist who soon, in the open, will die.
I want to cry, but won't.
"We believe that we invent symbols. The truth is that they invent us; we are their creatures, shaped by their hard, defining edges." - Gene Wolfe