Golden Escalator Poem by Leon Moon

Rotating platforms corrode Mercury streams to incense,
Premature crescendos morph into blind heritages,
Panting, flowering, magenta catacombs wind down sense
To a pulp of morning after imitation, the stage

Decking life as compulsory history for each age;
Starlets suffocate in the web's drainpipes, the pirate's bed
Multidimensionally squanders, exiles, judges the fed
And starved through the chase of dust challenging immense

Simplicity of everlasting dawns, the once untouched
Lantern cheapening dusk, a fairy light of lust, a gage
Unthought, as transmuted as breath, swelling from the last dense

Memory paralysing itself in all forms of silence
Rising from the omelette-making spine of a crying sage;
She's always dead, his long lost love, always expected.