Rises, rises like burning randy oak

Rises, rises like burning randy oak.

Today we can’t allow a polity; it would be frivolous,
We're too deep in abandonment: and so powers can’t allow it.
It is sepulchral, everday life can’t allow it.
Under the urban ramparts there are people sleeping
Who have no home: they are abandoned literally.
One wonders how long this curve can last.
Perhaps for a very long time,
Until a new epoch,
Rises, rises like burning randy oak.


Anatol Cordua © 2017