Fragrant Harbour 1997
What mortified beauty is this, impaled on the colonial crescent of change
O God of Immortality
How could you have laid bare such a cruel trap
The inner recesses of the structure remain
But the surface is gripped by an artic paralysis
Which refuses to melt in the tropical sun.
Forgive us, Celestial Emperor, in thy twilight perfection,
Remember the soft smell of a past woman’s love, the exquisite remembrance of things past,
And unfreeze the fragrant beauty of this land.
But only, we fear, to mire itself in the incessant toil of the human spirit.
Deep within lies the Chinese Congo, but how will it raise it’s spectral head, in these splintered mirrors,
By what cruel fate have you interwoven the dragon and the sceptre for history to dictate all.
And in this fate we see the flux of this pitiless beauty,
Move from it’s destiny to become immersed in the museum of a city
In man’s monument to Man.