Fifth Tidings of Hell

Angels torment me,
pink angels, blue angels,
angels of perfect teeth.
They’re all around me,
scattering confetti,
lighting cake candles,
with perennial smiles.
Neon wear angels,
celluloid angels
parading rooftops,
cocktail gargling angels
inhabiting my darkness
with their Xmas lights
and their party hats.
Cachinnating angels,
pop-corn machines,
Beat reciting angels,
high-heeled angels,
occupying stairways,
market flare angels,
celestial charlatans,
mythogems of air.
Every time I drink,
I see angels, nude angels,
Asian angels, British ones,
crowding the promenade,
marinated angels,
lollipop angels,
caving my mind,
baffling my senses.
Angels, ghastly angels,
ones I will not fight,
the great wall of angels,
bodies entwined
in swarms of Angels,
magnetising angels,
architects of desire,
rheum of the London eye.

Gabriel Moreno :
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