Lions in the streets roaming,
dogs in the heat, rabid, foaming,
a beast caged in the heart of the city,
The body of its dead mother,
rotting in the summer ground.
We fled the sprawl and thought we crossed the border,
left the chaos and disorder,
back over there, beyond our shoulder.
One morning to awaken in a green hotel
with a strange creature beside,
sweating, a sheen of shinning skin.
Let tell you about despair and the loss of gods,
wondering and wondering in hopeless light.
Out here there are no stars,
Out here we simply decay
Beneath our neon gods.
Gary Farlow
