2387
7.194
15.vii.26
diasporic
jetlag
zombie robots in Budapest
we are the children of ghosts
they never came back
the old pengő is
useless these days
perhaps they once had wishes
we will never know now
we set out with a map in our heads
on the phone, a back pocket paper map
print too small
who were they to this
we are the children of ghosts
come back for more
live on a fold between districts – Kiraly Utca
downstairs gluten free, attitude
one way’s as good as another
to the countryside and hock the lot!
there are ways to survive
streets lead off like drunks
but we’re alright
follow a tour leader’s flag
we could end up in any language
perhaps one not yet spoken
our children will of course be ghosts
marry a ghost and that’s what you get
this is all part of the game
the way they throw these streets together
give us perfume samples in the mall
you can’t have too many shoes!
from all over the world, they feed
we receive
it’s this to which we conform
it’s with every footfall
set in cement for a sky
we are the children of ghosts
dodged one bullet
but there was a next
years passed
there was the petal fall
the unleafing
no further snow
it’s like we weren’t quite dead enough
had to risk all again
to be lost
to go on
just to pass by windows
and see no reflection
it’s all so long ago
I cannot remember building all this
everything done so we wouldn’t know
that was the best thing then
these are ways of another time
home by Bolt if we can’t find a way
they say streets lead to the future too
but it’s always the old wars
the pretending
close your eyes
and we’re coming now
know where you’re hiding
they’re getting away with it again
and we’re ghosts, after all
it’s all night to be here forgetting
buildings will always remember us
have to write a way out
what can we say
when no one will hear?
we’re ghosts, we’re mute
we’ll float by, unseen
bullets stray, there are little brass plaques
trapdoors to our insect past
the wall is a floor is the ground
is the street
we are the undead
have no idea of down or up
we’d be an embarrassment if they knew
we are the children of ghosts
we are here
nothing can cure us of time
