Pink Night
THE empty trams sing a familiar songAs plaintive as those leaves that once were greenAnd cling to asphalt, floating else amongThe sharp white-pink of quick acetylene.Like rich saliva sprung from hectic flow’rsThey spray the night with echoing ideas—Some lose themselves in fickle slanting hoursAnd some evaporate in pallid fears.The souls of men have fossilized, grown coldIn this sublimely artificial day,A criminal’s revolver-crack they holdSome new device to animate their play!The lift drops breathless downAnd stairs in armies rise.Then vertigo, the clownHas caught us in disguise.
THE empty trams sing a familiar songAs plaintive as those leaves that once were greenAnd cling to asphalt, floating else amongThe sharp white-pink of quick acetylene.Like rich saliva sprung from hectic flow’rsThey spray the night with echoing ideas—Some lose themselves in fickle slanting hoursAnd some evaporate in pallid fears.The souls of men have fossilized, grown coldIn this sublimely artificial day,A criminal’s revolver-crack they holdSome new device to animate their play!The lift drops breathless downAnd stairs in armies rise.Then vertigo, the clownHas caught us in disguise.
THE empty trams sing a familiar songAs plaintive as those leaves that once were greenAnd cling to asphalt, floating else amongThe sharp white-pink of quick acetylene.
THE empty trams sing a familiar song
As plaintive as those leaves that once were green
And cling to asphalt, floating else among
The sharp white-pink of quick acetylene.
Like rich saliva sprung from hectic flow’rsThey spray the night with echoing ideas—Some lose themselves in fickle slanting hoursAnd some evaporate in pallid fears.
Like rich saliva sprung from hectic flow’rs
They spray the night with echoing ideas—
Some lose themselves in fickle slanting hours
And some evaporate in pallid fears.
The souls of men have fossilized, grown coldIn this sublimely artificial day,A criminal’s revolver-crack they holdSome new device to animate their play!
The souls of men have fossilized, grown cold
In this sublimely artificial day,
A criminal’s revolver-crack they hold
Some new device to animate their play!
The lift drops breathless downAnd stairs in armies rise.Then vertigo, the clownHas caught us in disguise.
The lift drops breathless down
And stairs in armies rise.
Then vertigo, the clown
Has caught us in disguise.