Face-brick Constellations - Aking

The glue of the community cuts the circulation

Clumsy fingers clutching detonators

A mediocre massacre rattles the floorboards

A prophet’s promise rapturing the ribcage

Ashes to the heartburn of the second class

Murder to their mechanical hips

Fire to their rigid lawns and paper trails

Panic to the sprawling metropolis

It’s the boredom that beats you

And the sound of it echoes

One after the other collapsing

These face-brick constellations patronise me

The smear of monotony

A backwards revelation

A small-time swindle, two bit operation

A testament of temperament

A tribute to complaisance

A needle swiftly puncturing the breastplate