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Oct 2022
The kids ran from the smoking pipes
Of tree branches and fog
Of mechanisms in the rotting mulch
Dragging heads of eclipses
On wish bone sticks

That was a metaphor for conquering
But also the story of choosing

The frogs write
their last will and testament on
Quivering mist and
Echoing answers

The fish know their place
Minds one ball of red string
And pass their history to their lawyers
As suggestions

The city is lined with
Street signs and traffic lights
One foot after another
One person and then another

Did you know the dictionary has no word
for the people who rely on patrons?

all these stolen words
and none to paint the world

Life is sheets of white paper
There’s a note when you’re born
And a note when you die
And a note when you eat

And behind each word is
A dept to be paid
In money in love or in pain
in quiet moments when you stand and wane

Perhaps I ramble too much
Mindless this and that like
the terms and conditions
of a tabloid subscription

Law metaphors from
Someone who’s not a lawyer

The kids ran from the smoking pipes
Of ink spills and crooked grins
Of mechanisms in the infinite machine
Nature following nature
Until they cease to breathe

History is written in prophecies
And radioactive handshakes
Yet the world with all it’s felonies
Cannot lay down it’s peace

It reads here, in the fine print:

The ouroboros of humanity
of plant of animal
of ocean of sky
of faceless crowds in an empty mirror
of lightless stars in a distant future

We will return
For better or for worse
It’s written in the fossils
And carved into our cells
And a written statement
is evidence enough
Written by
Em  Singapore
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