Facing the abyss, I see the crime
The city bared to its dark mime
Crime’s the mirror of misery shown
A lament in minds, forlorn and alone

Streets stage a silent, somber play
Where spilled blood speaks of more than decay
It’s the soul torn by indifference’s might
And the law, once justice, fades from sight

The poor, martyrs to their cruel fate
Trade their dignity for crumbs on a plate
...

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It was back in 09 and I was on the computer.

I had Ghost Dance on the decks, full volume.

I looked on Facebook to see her fan sites.

It was a wonderful shock!

Anne Marie Hurst was doing a gig!

I had the chance to see one of my musical heroines live!

And hear her Ghost Dance and Skeletal Family songs.

Imagine that, 80s Goth live.

I got a ticket...

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A silence fell upon the city,

contorted shadows twisting moonlight.

Stuttering in a speakeasy seemed so misplaced

bottles rattled flickering like Fedora feathers

in an unforgiving wind.

The wretched odour of deprivation

a stench that sticks and degrades ones existence.

Even by day this city remains a lifeless sap

and by night the vampires feast on th...

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FORD ESCORT

My old Escort is a wreck on wheels,

there’s more rust than paint, the tyres are bald

and the door lock’s knackered

but I have so much pride in my ancient car.

It came into being in 1984, at the height of the 80s

when XR3’s were king and Ford ruled the road.

Every morning it starts at first turn of the key

in a cloud of blue smoke fro...

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