Dead City

Black cat turning amidst the sands of
Endymion, the piteous harlot’s cry that pierced

The waning of the lamb; led defenseless to the pyre,
Her crimson life force bleeding over the gelid

Azure steel; insensate trod the automaton, unmindful
Of the saw-scaled viper rattle; Brandt and Mengele

Raining beyond the aegis of the interrealm; the shroud
Of Feminisis, its mark on every door; evanescing were

The catacombs, enveloped by oblivion. Thrice hopped
The raven through shades of dying light, inexorable was

The monolith, its pall irredeemable; black mask burning
Into the eye of the cannibal; unwept the horse-

Drawn demons, cascading on a lake of fire; reeling
Was the broken chalice struck down by the anti-

Human, the last cross erupting into flames on
Stygian shores. And no maidens danced betwixt

The gates of undrawn sorrow, no vultures hovering
Over the lifeless stars; bereft were the lovelorn

Shadows, the groaning of shackled fiends;
The maddening clanging – once more to the

Runes of Hell rang the bells of avarice. Another
Wraithlike vagrant dissolves into the haze, a

Shattered soul without yearning; relentless was
The harrowing night beneath the spires of bedlam.

David Penner’s articles on politics and health care have appeared in Dissident Voice, CounterPunch, Global Research, The Saker blog, OffGuardian and KevinMD; while his poetry can be found at Dissident Voice, Mad in America, and Also a photographer, he is the author of three books of portraiture: Faces of The New Economy, Faces of Manhattan Island, and Manhattan Pairs. He can be reached at Read other articles by David.