Princess steps up to the platform
Bells are ringing round the station.
Diamond dolls, and protest songs,
violent afternoon of ageing
rock star longing, old recording
smiling through the screen.
This won't be the last of her
the dying voices call a rainbow
dashing all the colours over
concrete lips and yellow fever.
Falling first the sun retreating,
ever to release.
Artful pirouette the speechless
crowd collapses holding children
closing all the eyes that can't believe
there's any room for one last dance
into oblivion's embrace; the final
virtue is defeat.
Eyes are windowless expression
Burning desolation filled with
furniture, and lamplight music
Landing squarely in the gutter.
Octopus contracting with her
wrist upon the track.
