The People Demand a Recall

Recall the promised land: that future revoked
its own life long ago. Still these dead tomorrows
dangle down like confetti strung up and hung
from Judas trees. We didn’t hear the funeral din. We read
that we rejoiced. We took up flutes and lyres and bashed
our tambourines and captors’ heads. Our bonfires
blazed the dawnlight through. And all we felt was flame
scorched and razed of everlasting light.

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