James Beach

Science Fiction, Fantasy, Nonfiction and More



This city grinds its teeeth
This city and it’s smiling jaws
of lipstick bloodstained red
and the dreamers it draws inside

It grinds its teeth with a sound
not unlike the payment of bills
the savvy scent of cash in hand
the hot sweet lust of a damn good job
and the bitter ashes of expensive taxes

That city ground it’s teeth down long ago
That city where I was
once a port, and now a hole
filled with what once had been
it’s teeth missing, stained, whiskey-yellow
and full of charm and character
now that the smile has no bite

My city has not yet been found.