It is insignificance intent on shrieking into pieces,
dissociating, dispensing rogue notions of integrity
too ablated to sustain real frames of reference, a
perspective faking puff-pastry views, a flaking &
stewed recipe of disastrous invective you’d’ve
had to grow into; you’re spread a-floor with the
debris that crashed and burned, all shattered
slivers of glass reflect brighter beams
of fractured moments disintegrating into terror’s
penitence, and where is reason and conscience,
what consequence has laughter and what is this
abyss we’ve fallen into flinging hard objects like
a strangled cry for help unheeded
buried in a vogue of rectitude already approved.
How did I earn such vengeful disapprobation, a
moment’s misadventure bloodily rent in tatters;
bet at this journey’s end I won’t be more than a
bit companion to shards strewn on the floor
of mourning; but I’m deceased you contend - it
isn’t right to hang a corpse, not by the rules you
tried and sentenced me. ‘At ease’ came like an
imaginary command where Court ends and the
petitioners disappear into vague nothingness
right thing, this scaffolding is where you’ll build
again. Be upstanding - walk in the way we do -
head lowered in penance, hand in hand of your
companion; she’s the one who agreed to have
you rise from the dead
© 9 November 2013, I. D. Carswell
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