Babylon, gardens and all

Man smells like this
a mix of funk, food and couture
but the mind soars
like the flags of the city international

Stone, smoke and steel,
the geometry of humanity,
have a pulse:
earth buried
under man's erections

Lights mocking heaven still the violent child -
an abortion remembered beneath every victory;
the opus is the deep breath of many languages
laughing painfully, irresistably...

A steele of life,
shards of art, on display as
edges and precipices of the human soul

Cast your net here, stranger
it may break under the weight
of the abundance
but you will be caught by your catch

The fish thrive
shimmering bodies of quicksilver
especially in dark, dangerous places
you can feel the heart beat

Echoes of industry, sepia stains of giants
stand stern and great grandfathers over the colors of fashion
lights of power, slightly yellowed with age
but still brilliant
promising the world, right here
Babylon, gardens and all


Copyright 2005 Eric Nunnally