Epic Poem excerpt two

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And the baobob and the jackpine might
nod in abeyance.

The city of square trees might ban yan
g rowth p otentate.

In the city of lost children, the reeds in oboes
are soggy and splintering.

A culvert they found, mold growing on bodies,
Obeah signs on the DoWling

A body drenched in kerosene, and lit
for the cause.

What crocuses for spring; what care for an imaginarium?

What a foufoura
for a drawn and so fourth dream?

What idea cannot be evicted; what brain cannot be emptied?

That it may leap to the next dream.
There’s a war on and its soldiers are soldered
on circuit boards. Tweet