They
called it, “Yes,”
Watching
imbecilic children
Rise
and fall, spewing
Every
damnation ever let to
Ministers
and Ministries,
Preaching
to the iron bars
Of
this crooked, travelling
Menagerie.
Corner into corner
Sweeping
dust from
Each
and every corner,
Then
cornered, left unnamed,
Unplaced,
even worsted,
Understood.
Underestimate
the praise,
The
chorus of souls,
The
trembling of the masses.
Underestimate
the scorn,
The
villainous flow.
No
space left for symmetry
In
the balance of things,
No
space for want.
Frivolous
constraints
Imposed
and recomposed
And
again, waiting,
Now
the fall and the laughter
That
precedes it
From
the belly,
Esophagus
littered with bile
Composition
laying waste
To
the water and air.
Remember
what you saw,
Friend,
the smile,
Contempt
to every edge.
Smile,
friend,
Remember
the dead.
