the night is an act of piracy
the dark billows out and threatens to evacuate all the hope from the world
the king of diminished responsibility surveys his kingdom
his alien skin revolts at the moonlight
snuffs it out with a shotgun spray of thug black clouds
the streets reek with murder bouquets
swilled and spilled as tailor made victims empty out
of drinking dens with expensive targets pinned to their
velvet clad backs
Stars appear with all their stupid chivalry
but their dim hope is pecked out when the first red rainbow
hits the cement and the artistic endeavors of greed
and flippant cruelty show just how far away
and useless they are
and there is a counterfeit exuberance
which tries to muscle out the fear
but there is no dance step or drink
or fumbled fellatio in a bathroom stall
that will keep you alive
longer than you deserve
Gary Priest writes short fiction and poetry both of which have been published online and in print. Recent or upcoming publications can be found in Vox Poetica, The Eunoia Review and The Corvus Review. He lives in the UK at the end of a dead-end road, which may explain everything.
–Art by Ashley Holloway
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