Needles and Tears

 

needles and tears

the only bright sparks of life

below rotting skylines

 

crime trampled so thin

it learns to grin like an x-ray

 

he rents a stool

where the cheap signals are loud

waiting hunched, bewildered

 

nothing is so tactful

as a stalker’s tactful hate

 

on stage she shows

a blonde aura of solemn marble,

a glazed closeness

 

lonely masks are hung up

she whispers to non-entities

 

their blood squirms –

her heart has small hands, clutching

silent assassins

 

he sees bloody particles

of the moon and howling beds

 

fuelled full of goodbyes,

all love tastes of questions –

he sees no remedy

 

he stands with the scattered rhythms

of a dying man’s heels

 

lurching from the bar

he greets the carcass of the night

under creeping stars

 

shadows excuse excuses

where night’s coiled to a cold trap

 

collar turned up,

her breath makes cryptic ghosts

as winter kissed her mouth

 

she whistles, unsuspecting

though stray dogs hear his fists clench

 

in puddles and piss

in sour struggles, they meet –

like the last dregs of sex

 

passers-by pass them by

in the trivial night

 

then look askance

where roses of powder-burns

draw circusing flies

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This poem was written for Carpe Diem Ghost Writer #36, Haiku Noir, in which Jen of Blog It Or Lose It asked us to write a “haiku noir”, inspired by Raymond Chandler. This is another great prompt hosted by Chèvrefeuille at Carpe Diem Haiku Kai and all of the poems in the link-up can be read here. Although I wrote this as a direct response to the prompt I haven’t added it to the link-up since, having got carried away, I realise I went in a slightly different direction to “haiku that explores the darker parts of nature – nature at the dirty edges of humanity.” Ah well, you gotta go where the inspiration takes you, right 🙂