grumpyAn Alien Hunt
January 3rd 2008 05:26
Blank page whores stalk the dim lit streets of my mind,
Awaiting the night's first four letter word.
I scan their innocent faces and wonder at my need
For love to flow from a few well chosen words.
I prowl: an alien hunter, searching for one face,
One mind of similar birth to tell me I'm not alone.
I creep as a dark beast in back alleys where once
I played, unaware of the lurking gods and demons.
They see me now, yet watch from averted eyes as I pass
Each one a hunter, yet powerless to savour an alien kill.
Light in darkness, darkness in light; impure creative power
Colour of mind, colour of love, colour of life
Outshines their idle perfection.
Yet who but blank page whores would take my words,
Who hear the gutter talk of each generation of misfits
And listen no more eagerly to mine?
At least with them no pretension lies.
In them no guile could expose my secret world
To the soul eaters who rule the sunlit throng of slaves.
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