How many lovers
do you wish you had kissed
on this spot?  
Did you know you would find 
regret waiting for you
in the street? 
Does a whirlpool
of invisible sounds
remind you
of you cannot quite say what
in the wind tunnel
of life’s dissonance?
Did you think you might
by voting for an angel? 
Is this the place
where your prophesies
are buried?
If you only had
one dollar left, would you
write a love letter on it?
Pretty things, pretty things,
is that
what you deserve?
Was it you
who let
the envious rats,
always gnawing
at the back
of your thoughts,
out to play?
Did they
scream up
out of
the storm drains
like spoilt children
on reverse
water theme park
Did they eat holes
in the fabric of your mind,
so now
it simply drains like a sieve,
dropping away
to instantaneous exhaustion?
When did anger
become regret?  Did we
ever arrive at forgiveness?
You don’t like your answers?
Don’t worry, gravity is helping.
These are just words you can forget
and time isn't what it used to be.
Even here, wedged between the buildings,
sunlight is the universal cleanser,
which is one of the reasons why
abstraction seldom survives the dawn.