Imperialism

They wore the masks of Easter island
Stitched their lips to keep the silence

They could see it coming from a lifetime away
They could hear the voices echo from where the giants held sway
The smell of cordite cold in an empty head
The taste of rust collecting on the inmate’s crumpled bed

They swam the reefs of coral teeth
Dreamt the words that lay beneath

Gunmetal tangents red held the night at bay
Green laser night sights translated what the moon would not say
Silverfish bookmarks for tales they’d never read
Sand in the eyes of peacemakers and the recently un-dead

They drank the potion of soon forgetting
And slept the draught of ships once passing

Corporate keys unlocked canyons of the day
Children of the golden calf (their childhood to betray)
Kneeled to worship the torturer’s hand it’s said
Kissed the yawning abyss and drank from rivers flowing red

For they were followers of a benevolent god


February 2009

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