from Life Without Buildings by Gary Knapton
There is a night fog sailing in
Old Lady from the coast
There is a blanket covering
The town I love the most
The boulevard lights sit drowning
In the low-slung venomous pitch
There is a fog descending
Our silent ship-lane witch
A kiss from the deep Atlantic
This eye-less thickening skin
No sea-bound lights flash frantic
No life can possibly win
Yond muted maritime monster
Fat-fingering at my glass
There is a fog descending
No god can make it pass
There is a harbour invasion
A visceral viscous stew
It eats your eyes in quick surprise
And nibbles your ear-lobes too
There is a night fog sailing in
And taking all of my town
There is a fog descending
Omnipotent ominous gown
No knife can ever cut through her
No fire can smoke her out
No warrant could remove her
No noise can swallow her shout
She cries of a lonely winter
She flouts her desolate need
There is a fog descending
Scattering the blind-mans seed
There is a curtain falling
A volatile vision ghost
The glint of lines and angles
Is the food she loves the most
There is a cloak that smothers us
There is a mist that seethes
There is a fog across the bay
How elegantly she weaves
No spirit on high can shift her
No man can reason her being
No force of nature can lift her
No takers ever got seen
Long tongues slow-licking my doleful soul
And drinking my inward screams
There is a fog descending
All over my love-lit dreams
