A day in the city

Haunted glances and rubber-soled feet
walk past the colourful windows in the street.
A far-away girl with a scarf like a rainbow
sits on the only yellow bench, black boots below.
She counts skulls on her dress and cobbles around her,
never looking up, so far no one has found her.

A single file of wallets saunters down
into the basement boutique, a holy abode
for those who spend their money well.
Of course it causes nobody to frown,
this t-shirt saying “Fuck La Mode”.
Hey, it’s the only item they sell!

Sweet fruits of passion dangle
high above the gilded door,
while inside we watch the world at an angle,
kneeling, praying and drooling on the floor.

One day the mist will clear on the river of Jordan.
Will we then fear the ferry we’re boarding?