it was a hotel
that felt like Europe
the sky fool’s gold
I carried the stain of onus
a swathe of estate
a piano accordion compress
then lungs heart hands unbound
it was all I could do
a diaphragm of circling words
to reach to hold a falling flower’s
want of translation here
if only the secret in sails
an advance of witness
had broadcast in canvas
that our slavery introduced
two genocides side by side
ReplyDeleteIt is very ghostly
the genocides of famine
unsecured investment
and greed; absent despots
we'll enslave each other.
The Stain of Onus
ReplyDeleteoughta be some kinda blockbustr trilogy
I'm on if you are!
Delete