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