In Visible Cities

from Year Of The Bird (Volume 3) by Pale Bird



You reach right down, lift handfuls of mud in the air
To feed the canopies, hungry
Hungry and loud
From their buzzing silver zeppelin crowd
And some kind of flying sedan chairs

You bet I was speaking ill of the dead when I said
These streets here are all paved with lead
But these flagstones remain immune to the tremors
They’ll hold this city together

Now I am just saying what you already know
You can feel how deep the city’s roots go
They crumble the topsoil and the hard rock below
They’ll sever the city from the land in which it grows

So when this land is unmoored and floats out to sea
The city has better ideas, just you see
And when it gets tired of this ridiculous dance
It’ll be its own island off the north coast of France

The rock face exposed reveals dozens of doors
Beneath the fast feet of the city at day
Each one is old but shows no sign of decay
Their absent owners paint it away

Somewhere in there, behind the door, up the stairs
Above a thin piece of word sawn into a square
Behind the boxes of clothes on a cluttered wood floor
You’ll find an oil painting
Photographic in style
Of a rotten old door


from Year Of The Bird (Volume 3), released September 20, 2019


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Pale Bird Austwick, UK

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