For his bad verses


in every small apocalypse

on every silver screen

in low-res monochrome footage

from street-corner cameras

we see at several angles

the death of Cinna the poet


how his clothes are torn

his glasses crushed

his hair pulled

lips and ears ripped

eyes gouged

genitals despoiled

limbs wrenched apart

by unmercy of the riot

hungry angry wants

both legitimate

and illegitimate

democratically unmet

turned furiously

on the innocent


how the yellow-jackets clamour

and rebel for misplaced cause

how we are gripped in a tidal swamp

of our own incontinent piss

how we elect our own demise

how nothing is as we believed

how the city and the forest burn

how the world and the worm turn



Aidan Semmens

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