The City is Spent


by Brian Jones


Added 6 July 2000


The city now is spent,
useless but for memories,
and even there is time's decaying.
Bags contain no souvenirs
that aren't already degrading.
Cards curl and leaves break down.

Feet have trod down every worthy path
for eyes to absorb each wondrous sight.
Along each trail catharsis flowed
out through toes to make a river.
Up, and up, the river rose,
as remnants unleashed their wrath.
The entire city now suffers the blight
that from this soul is severed.

To the city soaked in the stench of a soul's sweat:
thanks and apologies, but I run now without regret.


COPYRIGHT 1999
U.S. Copyright # Txu 728-358