Roofs and tiles,
So that they may know how to cry
At night, of men,
That is the curse, and in towns.

And in towns,
We followed the stumps
In the breast,
Blinded and bound,
The man through the night.

A curse,
Folded and refolded,
Prometheus’ curse
Drawn like a veil across the eyes.

The black suit who tripped up men,
The face less man, wounded,
When parliaments converge
Across the eyes like birds.

© 2017 Occasional Dreams
Image: European Starlings Overhead B&W by Mr.TinDC / CC BY


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