In the third days of men


Did you listen under the roof of moon
To the happy dirge of buried shadows,
Who were frightening ghosts in the city of oppressors
To unroof huts they erected to soak their hands with plenty?

Did you hear how gele was tied to request
From the table of the Queen our meal of freedom
When the Queen decided our diet
And dropped globule of colorless juice for tongues to be showered?

In the days of men, table of power was set
Under the new sun that rose
To give seat to the men yet to be born
For all bellies to receive power.

But, the table built with sweat to fill stomachs
Drains stomachs into linear bones
As the standing sun bows out
For thick moon-less dusk to seat.


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