The Moya View

Sentinels

The sentinels stand silently

guarding the monuments

from rioting against their shadows.

One guard

counts the sunshine,

the other the dark.

The piss and shit,

the broken glass

can never be really

cleaned up.

The stench

just follows the tour

through the

purple velvet queue.

The glass bleeds

the feet of those

who sold their shoes

for nothing.


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Comments

One response to “Sentinels”

  1. carolineshank Avatar

    Brilliant!

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Where Waldo Is Not
Persimmons and Pomegranates
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