Film Photography > Poetry

You see a ship tall
Made of mirrors taking the people to
Vanity Island.

Reflecting the sun and creating the catch lights in every
Sea bird
Searching for a silver fin.

That fin
Is a blade that cuts the throats of greed’s neck?
Piles of gold coins balanced on closed dead eyes.

We appear in a dance style called:
A charade of fools prancing in front of a king.
That will not give up his throne.

A feral dog escaping domestication by
Chewing on a bloody bone.
Societies teeth sink deep into false
Because the inner well is open and empty and

The lack of compassion.

Most would prefer a sceptre of skepticism raised
Then dropped quickly to the ground.

Instead of arms embracing
Another sentiment being lost

In a bustling blank Babylon.

Appearances in a blank bustling Babylon