Les Rêves des Notre Ours #2 | Page 4

Songs for Ghosts - I

I’ve been clawed from dreams of crashes,

left pinball spun

with scorched fingers. There is no break

between the sirens and silence, I’m able to

count the seconds before the screams

kick in.

The moon is a fluorescent tube, eighteen watts

and inconsistent.

All we have are memories of ghosts. All we have

are phantoms forcing us to recite the past. Nine

days into the first lunar month and I have no

rituals.

Even maps of streets breathe pollution,

in an atlas

Beijing is just soot and smoke. Someone

wrote ‘you are here’ on the blueprints, and I

knew they weren’t talking to me. I never loved

this place.

by Aaron Kent - @GodzillaKent - more info HERE