![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW3dyYCXPCnNTCweKnTYadeVAZN3Koy4FAkiRK7E8nb4FqqBAwm_m9uFVxYmENLR6ZReJ42lqifbc6UIhuEcSxy-m0wLBsp-6UrC2Ml10gHr5X7WskuipIuF6vfXYf37zDYmValQ/s320/Michael_Wolgemut_THE_+DANCE_OF_SKELETONS_Dornai.jpg)
there is no one way
to pay it back
i.e. the ‘rich’
that union of familiar
finitely familiar crackles:
the planet crumbles
inside them
the structure of torture
the purpose of
torture is
to enter the language
a provincial street
a biological decision
the enemy citadel
or perhaps just exchange
words / ‘why’, ‘ok’,
say the word ‘number’
ha / say ‘why’
the word ‘interrogate’
the word ‘disrupt’
sounds like
'here’s a pill for your'
-rogues & bandits-
but obviously, what we
-night / animals / work-
-police / crime / magic-
but obviously, what we
in the privacy of our
in the privacy of our
careers / we are eating
zombies, livid ones
oh I don’t wanna
oh I don’t / 'friends'
but, 'haunting europe'
- music / movies / games -
bright magnetic streets
our ancestors are
like safe now.
ok, forget that
o burnt frequency
the dead, so brightly
digging up the dead
2 comments:
Sean: I've been following 'The Commons' closely.
Fantastic (phantasticall) poem. Thanks,
Simon
Thank you very much Simon, nice to be appreciated
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