I have been a blackthing on an uneven ground,
I have been a jewthing turned blue by peasants.
So that people could see what was going on,
Voices bubbled up in the Summer blood
After-speech in the Spring, simmered.
I had more friends where I come from,
And it is really a shame we cannot see even
The closest stars in crowded places. You call it light,
It’s pollution of the mind, our cities are not
Generous enough : time to move to empty
And recover from constant participation.
Image credit : Robert Seidel – Long Shot, 2014
