Sad dead building, Orpheus, laid bare

There is a gap
opposite
it is where Orpheus
used to be.
Yellow diggers carve into
rubble pits
the long pendulum
of a crane sways
slightly from
side to side.

I filmed a part of
Orpheus
before the final
destruction.
The legs of a beautiful
brass staircase
open to the air
gulls let in to the
inside of the
stained glass heights.
The lost affair;
a hard drive broken,
where once I placed
the mutilated limbs.

Sad dead building, Orpheus, laid bare

Other films remain
the flashes weakly
flickering
writhing along
white sides
of buildings
the ends
of trees.

In the silence of
giving up on a day.
Hearing muffled
footsteps
in a shared house.

As we turn
on the light
the flash of the
split lip
white break
between pink slips
between the living
and the dead.

Knell, crown,
black bat at
a window pane
growing in its
small noises.

Sad dead building, Orpheus, laid bare

A version of something
completely unknown;
nonentity
yet congruently
familiar (home)

The deepest of
the digger sounds
vibrates through
thick glass
in a miscellany like a
beast snoring.
The odd
desultory seagull
takes wing to
the damp air
up over
long since used
red brick buildings
it goes.

As spectator
to the gulls
bequeathing of
this site
to rest and
ruin

Sad dead building, Orpheus, laid bare

I am called to
question the
recurring gap
that opens out
across from me,
not unlike the gaps
felled buildings
opened along
many other streets,
whether purposeful
or brimful
with volcanic
ash and fire.