Chrome Yellow

And he smiles.

What a tortured smile.

Break from the pale tears dancing down your lips.

Crackling white smoke as it brokenly rips.

Dead is the world outside of this framing

Holding shimmering skies and blue butterflies,

And chrome yellow, sunburnt fields of wheat

That smile sunnily through their abstract defeat.

(The God of this world is sick in his mind.

The God of your world is trapped outside.)

Singing: “Let me back into

My Chrome Yellow Sky!”

And he smiles.

The most tortured of smiles.

25 November 2006