Glen Armstrong

Among the Forgetters #57


This is a city that never unzips
its pants.

A sad city in need of a good
scrub down.

A repressed city. 
Everyone owns a copy.
A statue.
A war

hero whose pirouette in the thick
of battle
 
hardens and cracks 
off into history.
I love the idea

of juxtaposing colorful flowers
with gun barrels,
but they say

I am a little 
too loving,
 
too trusting.

I love the juxtaposition of dancing
and snakes,

of public art and rigor mortis 
in theory,

 in theory

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