Dirty Canvas Town

An industrial grey drizzle-coats
what is not eaten by thin-blooded red rust
rooftops peaked in prayer to deflect the downpour
some with broken crowns letting in the dirty rain

Dull squares and rectangles squat on one-and-other
huddled together on the hillside
keeping close the stench of toil
a chemical disinfectant
body odour and stale piped steam

This mass is permutated by long
granite steeples on each corner
poking out of the caress of the town
upside-down like some dead animal legs akimbo

As the rain washes the paint down the faces
of all the little parasitic dots
following the veins from belly to groin
some become aware but most not
you can escape the dirty canvas into clean light