no one sees them
as the veils begin to shift
and night falls

ghosts begin their walk
high heels tattered, cracked and worn
jeans stiff from two days wear
jesus dangling between their breasts
at the corner of a downturned mouth
spit and a cigarette gather

jittering and itching they rub their arms
awaiting the next rush and run YEAH !
when the cops are around, night creatures
they scamper and skitter into the shade

cathedrals for sale
also palaces, castles, snake pits
and other defunct objects
of former affection

though beautiful in their day,
the weight of these monstrocities
has left the holding estates in abject ruin
due to lack of interest, brains
and tithes

Shadows in the mind,
their gaunt spectred shapes
fit into places in the brain,
stored, as in a loft of chests and boxes,
there to rest,
until they're wanted once again,
to throw their patterns
into present conscious thoughts;
they lie there latent figures in the wings,
with many things,
the goods and chattels of a life, ignored,
until their likenesses appear
to ask them up to dance,
the dance of knowledge
learnt and understood,
or merely wake to shake in unison

I thought I was beyond it
grasping I tried to hold firm
as each thread passed
through my fingers

but my art held fast
pinching my arms
numbing my fingers
itching at me

awoken from nightmares
sweat rolled from temples
a hollow reed in the dark
had begun to sing

seducing me long into night
my hands bled
and spilling my blood
I made the lines ring

in the back of beyond
I found myself bloody
weeping of the black
bleeding out poems