In the old districts of Madrid

This double - barrelled helix,
an ancient Spanish stairway,
Its wood greyer than street dust
with bandaged banisters, spirals
As a monstrous thorax throttled
on each gargantuan gargoyle floor
towards a vaulted glass dome sky.

Across a courtyard of piled debris,
Half hung brown ramshackle shutters
On paint flaked wood window doors,
Rust wrought iron verandas & stained
Facades, an unbelievable Gurnica light
Bulb suspends in a naked window against
The night. A white electric cell stormed
In the head of a whale that flounders,
Crashes onto the street of harlot shouts.

A spring moon appears above an open
Auditorium full on to a surreal film,
Where a French courtesan in sex & sin
Dies over & over again in the dreams
Of sick apes & their silent screams.