2 posts tagged “alan moore”
Down on Rue Morgue tonight, the great white apes are dancing.
At evening street cafes the waiters toast the moon
And me in Draculove, alone in midnight ballrooms
The table-lambs burn slowly, such a lonely shade of blue.
We watched the vampires glide through twilight urchin-gardens.
You blow a kiss; they smile and melt in the dark.
Later on we opened all the cages at the aviary.
A cloud of doves blow like albino leaves across the park.
May you be sung to sleep by starboys, starboys, starboys,
In ghostly cinemas at dawn.
May white flamingoes fill your nightmares.
When evening comes to the flamingoes' lake-side home
I leave a glove, and I am gone.
In dream aquariums, fish study their reflections.
Across the party floor, you wink and turn away.
And me in Draculove, stands hailing haunted texis,
And you stand there in chiffron stained quinacridone and gray.
Hermaphrodites and ladies put on their coloured silks
And paint their faces white.
And murderers clap as you descend the empire staircase
The dog-men grin and bare their yellow teeth, as if to bite.
A throat so pale it leaves me snowblind, snowblind, snowblind.
A voice like distant Satellites.
We make love to each other's shadows.
God knows the best sun shines at night.
I've helped you from your bed at sunset, sunset, sunset.
I've helped you paint your windows black.
I've been down upon Rue Morgue so long,
Mon Amour Mort, don't think I'm ever going back.
Illustrated Version
