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Effigies; Allowed To Follow by Michael Igoe



Effigies

If they’re posed as reverent, the strong lack any

strength. But in the final days, they're same as ever. There's still time left

for their hollow eyes peeking out of caves.

An eye is confused

by what it

captures.

Just short of death itself,

like eating funeral fruits.

A measure of lives,

while they pass by.

In surveying the scene,

lives repeat each other,

in bloody reenactment.

And they might pass,

like a meteor shower.

Both are much blessed,

and from terrible hands.

They have power to belay,

in their sweeping gestures.


Allowed to Follow


I am a sailor boy

who holds hands

with a china doll.

My close friends

vast in numbers,

live in big cities.

I will dream up

a correct shade

for my anguish. I may go through

a time I am calm;

I can't remember.

There might be gunshots

fired from the riverbank.

But I heard no report

in the way of sounds

Only ordinary weapons on this part of the river.

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