a city at war with itself


a city at war with itself

em = By Phil McManus

lights on the hill

above the river;

even the Romans

couldn't site a city

this well.
neon signs between stone and darkness

are like colours in an oil spill.

there is beauty hidden in the blackness,

beauty of the woman

who may murder your career,

beauty of the man who may seduce you

and never give you back

to yourself.

between the rolls of wire

and soldiers in the square,

there is the beauty

of fire
an orange glow above the valley,

smoke shrouding the stars

and a cold wind stalking

the dawn of another day