“Faust” by Phil Slattery.

My poem Faust was published on Lucy’s Works on Nov. 30. Many thanks to Lucy.

Lucy's Works and Co

Quiet.

All is damnably quiet.

I can hear the spiders spinning in the darkness,

the breath of a rat against the stone walls,

a cockroach crawling through the sulphur-laden air.

The roaring silence fills the air like the grumble of the sea.

Pitiless Eternity.

But a second ago he was here,

he whose eyes glowed like falling stars in bottomless pools,

he with the comforting voice of the practiced whore.

My wounds still bleed, my sleeves are still wet.

The rats have yet to smell the droplets on the floor.

For what have I been sold?

Square roots? Sines? Sums?

Will I profit knowing winds are not the breath of God

knowing the sun is not a chariot of fire?

knowing mountains are not the bones of giants?

knowing why the sound of pouring wine tickles the ear?

why lovers’ eyes sparkle as purest silver?

why cool grass and shade…

View original post 43 more words

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