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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



are then twisted
coined as a phrase

inducing buddies
inside >


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


Author Skendong

Metamorphosing Clunky Narratives

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