Solaris Politicus

A darkness reaches towards us with fingers distorting
A darkness of mountains constructed of stars
A darkness our pathway traversing the fold
The rubbish in the curbcorners, left there this morning
The rubbish is not cleared, it is Labour Day
The rubbish underfoot as I buy a cheap sandwich
I take hours to read each title
I take a book I may never read and place it in darkness
I take foot by foot the tarmac of the path
Passing across the city to the Place de la Revolution
Passing across the city the clouds and the sun
Passing across my eyes thousands of humans
Crowding in the square, marked by symbols
Crowding in the square the mechanics of the stomach
Crowding in the lives they each are drawn to
I stop and read the signs of human troubles
I stop and feel it right to buy a pop can
I stop and think the fruit were grown in Israel
Leaving the court I float back in darkness
Leaving I realise the book I bought is racist
Leaving I lose all hope and tear it slowly in half
At home the cat greets me
At home I listen to the soaring strings and blink
At home the universe is ungraspable and empty
A darkness reaches out for me with fingers distorting
A darkness of ancient mountains in the bleary morning
A darkness takes us as we sleep
But we don’t have to think like that anymore.

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