poem07 Jan 2019 08:00 am
echo of thunder and those
seaside sirens going off
and you and I will have to talk
since past misdeeds are too often
buried in shallow graves
I should’ve known
and I should’ve guessed
I’ve known you too long
to play at ignorance
you grew those flowers out of old bones, didn’t you?
old bones and rotting flesh
it all makes good, black earth
until they bring out their spades
and start digging
illustration is a street mural by Alexis Diaz and Chilean artist INTI
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