Treasure Island

Naveed Akram

(15 December 1973 / London, England)

Dressed In Black


Justin, dressed in black with dusty white collar,
Looked up and informed the business men;
A mechanised horse gazed upon the beliefs
Posed by the monied men, honey was setting
Fondly and fortunately.

Justin was in desperate need of a coin and job,
The stale smell of professionalism saw gain
And fortunate occurrences of the highest order,
But the beastly smells were nothing in the end;
Surely, the preaching had been religious.

The merchants entered their cities,
Grey, rain-threatening skies were no
Match for the stale smells of the decades
We were swimming in for the last periods,
And the men had long, delicate fingers.

Submitted: Sunday, September 29, 2013
Edited: Monday, September 30, 2013

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