Poem: Like a Mari Lwyd

"Vanité" —Jaques Stella

The tagging grew ever more direct,

The writing on the wall, more personal,

But I didn’t care to see.

I served rainforest jelly

In the ramshackle

Under the broken eaves.

Shadows, shades, projections

Slipping in and out of lamplight,

Crackling the bones of the city,

Sleepers eyes turned down

To the sparks through the window.

Bloody paint welled up from split sidewalk,

A spirit not quite forgotten underneath.

The birthing of the crops, the stride of the horse,

Direction in rich sunlight,

The swelling of waves,

A revolution spelled out in service and sacrifice.

Murmured the flowers the secrets of names.

Long life to you.

Long life to you.

Long life to you.

Like a scarecrow, like a dead man, like a mari lwyd.

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