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Poetry

projecting II

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anonymous man standing behind glass

projecting II

it is madness to live
(without breaking rules)

especially when you know

c r e a t e d

laws
that
govern

(pause)

are then twisted
coined as a phrase

inducing buddies
inside >

projected
down
generations

whose guns past pushed Opium,

upon flung out addicts
smacked out in alleys
while others got high
cramped under zinc roofs.

through the port,
poison marshalled
with flintlocks cocked –

local officials locked
in pointless negotiations
pleading for silver
in exchange for tea

but lost / the argument…

200 years later?
nothing is new –
today the sun is shining

and under it
the same governors
collect huge sums

because canal-side
on my doorstep
it’s like 20 20 vision

i watch

three men hunched
shabbily clothed,

one holds tin foil
with his soiled
shaky fingers,

the other fires light
to an odious brown

the other tears open
a packet of syringes

as strangers move
to and fro unhinged

holding heads straight
as if not noticing

what was pointedly
in your face.

poem: projecting III

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