~Anna

Esmeralda was dancing in the streets
while the King of Fools was being crowned
Hugo was hunched over
a flickering candlelight
like a grotesque shadow,
goose quill in hand …
in the meantime in a far-and-away land
once upon a time
a poet reads that the nearly dead can never walk
further than an imaginary line crossing over
and under
every house of worship,
the architect knows how dimensions drop
under a misguided moon:
there’s nowhere for turtles
to go except
all the way up
to the sailor’s golden sextant
hidden amoung Pleiades outer reaches
and inner sanctum

not only the bell ringer becomes
stone deaf when the walls come crumbling
down

oh! can you hear the people shout?
can you hear their cry?
but for the loaf of bread …
go you and I.