Devil's Kiss

The city wears green
the devil wears purple
briar on the thoroughfare
a pack of dogs crosses the street
where they used to meet
where they used to run
where they used to be seen
in the final days of the Holocene

As far as the eye
spread out the fields of rye
yellow brown and gold
their stories remain untold

The city as new
as new as it is old
in its green robe
shrouded in myth

Arisen from an ardent kiss
the devil's kiss
the devil gardens with delight

He nourishes and cherishes with a smile
the main boulevard, his flowering green mile
recovering from the ages of man
doing all he can
so he
forgets his old enemy

Son of the morning
whistles the waltz of the flowers
the devil twirls
among the crumbling towers
shouts with glee
and rattles and hisses
welcoming the trees
and blowing red kisses

and blowing red kisses
and blowing red kisses
and blowing red kisses



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