Dennis Mombauer

Urban Echoes

The streets are glass

The skies like

Unstacked shelves

Blindenlicht

Trembling over the city

Mazes of graffiti

Formationally flawed

Through a concrete cavern

A tram snakes

Even the memory

Seemingly small

Schmetterlingsweich

Pendulum hours

The gorges swell

With carafe-eyes

And manicured claws

Motoren atmend

Tiniest of triggers

Zungenlos enraged

They stare

Out their windows

Hours in each direction

Blickgeduld waning

Thoughts in padded cells

Dust crystals float

Inside a mirror

Käfigraunen

The strangest thing

I heard all morning

A squall of needles

Sprayed catalyst

Their way home

Born in the dusk

A selfishness

The city sleeps

Ungeruht