It is merely the colour they replace

not the content, and make distance

with rickety slogans engulf the waves

that trap tears before dreams revolt

what use lamenting the shipwreck in a void

or braving the moral remains

or the day's frail fabric in a dead world:

no good as a gauze for the sick

or shroud for the dying: their flags deceive all

in the name of democracy

they mock the millions with substanceless noise

while funeral dreams haunt my sleep

I hang nobody's picture in my chamber

but see their shadows masturbate

in damp corners or seduce in poppy light

the crooks and righteous alike

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