Republic - first draft; any comments? I promise to crit too!
Posted: Wed Sep 26, 2007 9:28 pm
Republic
Another night of smoke
and speed in Republic,
selling sweet white wine
to drunk brothers
with a saccharine smile,
a silent roll of the eyes.
Her involuntary hip-swaying
to the massive beat
encourages the boys,
their ecstasy eyes throbbing
like speakers, their mouths
chewing imaginary nipples.
House is the music
of the Salzburg night.
The harmony’s huge pipes
rush across the bass
like the main stream of the Salzach
hurtling over its rocks.
Her soul finds kinship
with the angel’s voice floating
from the soundsystem:
she opens her wings
and soars, but not into the rafters
of Republic; instead,
into the gorges of the Hochkonig
south of the city,
high into alpine land,
away from the brazenness of bohos,
the destroying eyes
of the disco lights.
Annalie Travelli watches the brothers;
remembers stamping their hands
in ultraviolet earlier,
while they stared at
her haunches and grinned,
the tourists’ grin. She…
She swishes a dark red towel
across the ponds of lager
on the neon counter and it reminds her
of a chunk of beef brandished against the sky,
and of a falcon’s wings
set against a backdrop of silver mountains.
Another night of smoke
and speed in Republic,
selling sweet white wine
to drunk brothers
with a saccharine smile,
a silent roll of the eyes.
Her involuntary hip-swaying
to the massive beat
encourages the boys,
their ecstasy eyes throbbing
like speakers, their mouths
chewing imaginary nipples.
House is the music
of the Salzburg night.
The harmony’s huge pipes
rush across the bass
like the main stream of the Salzach
hurtling over its rocks.
Her soul finds kinship
with the angel’s voice floating
from the soundsystem:
she opens her wings
and soars, but not into the rafters
of Republic; instead,
into the gorges of the Hochkonig
south of the city,
high into alpine land,
away from the brazenness of bohos,
the destroying eyes
of the disco lights.
Annalie Travelli watches the brothers;
remembers stamping their hands
in ultraviolet earlier,
while they stared at
her haunches and grinned,
the tourists’ grin. She…
She swishes a dark red towel
across the ponds of lager
on the neon counter and it reminds her
of a chunk of beef brandished against the sky,
and of a falcon’s wings
set against a backdrop of silver mountains.