Naked in Death

The appetite of progress

All these buildings
– once-
are carcasses now

You look, and see
straight through them
unfinished totems of renewal
that stand like abandoned altars

The bones of
something half familiar
are on display, naked in death
for all to see

Where is this progress now?

Where does it sit
sated
smiling lazily to itself
picking the filth of dreams from its teeth?

You might wonder this
but you will never know
This is the abstract nature
of both appetite and progress

Either way
move along

Barry Charman is a writer living in North London. He has been published in various magazines, including Ambit, Popshot, The Alarmist and Firewords Quarterly. He has had poems published online and in print, most recently in The Linnet’s Wings, and Leading Edge. He has a blog at http://barrycharman.blogspot.co.uk/