In a country where all books are forbidden,

the hurricane spits out a new world
with a new legacy of destruction.
People stop by the house with a light on and a blue door,
the house with boarded-up windows where
the mandolin player keeps an eye
on his own basement revolution.
These are the days when the truth learns to
travel on cigarette papers, between prison cells,
before the police arrives
to evacuate.

Maria Stadnicka
Illustration nick victor

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2 Responses to Thought

    1. Powerful poignant visceral. The silent scream fades in a cold hopeless gale that saps the life force.

      Comment by James on 19 January, 2017 at 7:27 pm
    2. Thank you, James. The world, as we know it, is now gone.

      Comment by Maria Stadnicka on 20 January, 2017 at 11:04 pm

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