• Vol. 05
  • Chapter 06

Lead Singer from ‘Simon and the Stylites’ Believes His Own Hype

Ah Simon. Simon, Simon Simon.
What are we going to do with you?
I've been meaning to have a word-
it's this thing with towers. It has to stop.
When you started the band
it rhymed with 'nights' not 'nighties'
We were meant to be The Stylites,
Not the Stylites.

I didn't ask for this pedestal, you say.
From up here I see the reflection of eyes
like a string of Christmas lights
feel rain stinging like shards of glass
or being caught in a pin storm
My eyes sift through the myriad perfection
of shells, turrets, minarets, jewellery boxes enameled
for an ancient sea Czar guarded by
cut throat razors and marbled snow peaks.
I am searching for blue glass, bristol blue
but not only ship shape, any shape
those little chunks of shattered sky
and pottery, crackled and painted
made new by its destruction,
broken but complete.