APRILLA ZANK

APRILLA ZANK

READING THE SIGNS

I levitate above my bed

with all those dogs clinging to my feet

eyeless, toothless, headless

the blue flowers on my white

bed sheets burst red

the fishermen around the fire

read the future in dingy scales

I walk these bare streets

dragging words behind me

heavy like carcasses

crying, listen! listen!

but I hear no echo

just a flattering of wings

behind barred windows

I climb the walls of my bunker

pull at roots, filaments and fur

choke with the smell of burning flesh

cover my eyes with barbed wire

aghast at seeing the signs

branded on the festering cortex

of an army of mutants

MIST

spreads

over the city

heading toward twilight

lingers on trees

like lint

on wounded soldiers

blinds the street lamps

deludes the late home comer

veils lovers' embrace

in the softness of solitude

dampens the prophecy

of the owl's cry

entwines around the breast

with impatient limbs

closes eyes

drifts over the skin

caresses lips

creeps into the brain

blurs the pattern of cells

mutates synapses

dissipates

in spasms of light

DEAD BIRD ON THE ROOF

there is a dead bird

on the glass roof

of the shopping mall

a grey shadow

in a pool of red

beneath

life pulsates

in flashing neon lights

alluring voices

praise the next-to-nothing prices

for ultimate bliss

eternal youth sparkles

from opaline skin repair jars

girls in pairs

cast side glances

at older boys

or wealth promising elderly

food courts brim with

disposable plates, cups, cutlery

dead pigs, chickens, fish

mayonnaise, mustard, custard

chop suey, cevapcici,

Chinese, Lebanese, Japanese

while sipping long drinks

youngsters fumble with smart phones

send requests

exchange smiles and smileys

search for an easy chance

to insert their chromosomes

with no particular purpose

APRILLA ZANK