Empty Diary 1956
(no pictures please we’re history our confessions
flame at his lips: blank office block
smiles stiletto eyebrows: tank gun rotates over
mobs touching its armour for luck: hearts
torn out of daily re-animated flags: our
guts a vertical drop down the lift
shaft: dust caked the entire city: podium
imposters: panegyrics: helicopters circle dodging ancient
rifles:
so much flesh flinches and hunches: sponges
for their own blood: two men sharing
cigarette kisses: flung as casually as empty
packets from trains (the Empire’s oceanic sperm:
Visit the Patricia Farrell Celebrations Hub Post (with links to all the rest) here.
