urbanity

A chaos of our own devices, devising, a congested scene. What senses left can assuage this assault? When kissing, often couples close their eyes. Is it a deeper delving into the euphoria of touch? Or a deflection of sensory overload? So too am I now. Closing my eyes and feeling: the earth pounding beneath my feet, stifled and asphyxiated; shapes passing within inches, closer, unemotionally scraping; a lost wind, whirling about the plaza in directionless anxiety; honking, screeching, pained impatient, boisterous, agitated, metallic bodies whir only paces beside with reckless speed. Voices, voices, the distant river sloshing into the sea, creaking of concrete and overhanging roadways - even the birds, the ravens, are strangulated, singing simpering songs and clashing pieces of trash in their beaks.  Rook to pawn, check, cities as sanity's chess game, internalized, slow, and deliberate.

Faces, faces, here and there, passion, distance, creative flair, drowned in the dizzying, everywhere

Ravens wheedles through the sky

landing by

Pauper home, no fields his own

rook to pawn

Down the street clattering near 

churches here

horses

steaming breathe in dawn sunlight

bishop knight 

And night doth fall, shadows tall

Over sculpted monument,
an ancient lord whom men afford

little notice such aged things

long dead kings

the queen of time a deadly crime

check

blithe people milling 'round

lost or found

a mated death, check, king's last step

taken, then he falls