Clockwork City


Clockwork City


It’s all one city

After all

One heaving hive

Connected to others

Home to insect people

Trapped behind window-panes

Tiny flashing brains

In the glowing sky

Pumping arterial blood

Through labour or play

Or worship at the altar

Of shop signs and benign

Growth of markets

Ascending from nothingness

On ladders of false belief

Rungs made of machine parts

All clockwork, all revolving around

A void in the collective

Mind, a hole

Skewered through every

Flash of sentience, the axel

Of discontent

Spinning so fast it becomes

A moving picture, a lie told

In our heads, late at night

When safe asleep

In bed.



© Copyright David Marriott  all rights reserved­.