By | 29 July 2009

The first day of her trial provided
A crude representation
Of a famous orator
Coming in on the radar

Every speech was moulded
In the thin place between
The word and the thing
No other documentation was required

The path to the sitting stand
Like the vacant blue sky
Lead me to her mind's architecture
Trying to draw meaning from the graffiti

Her audience waited hours
To hear the phrase
But professing to see the Blessed Virgin
She slowly removed the incisors

Now the gap between the beating and broken


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