No light
ever escaped the
world's jail
a cave housed my soul
for thirty nights
millions participated
the hen's burial
the result was a circle
that inevitably
stained the sky
movies and radios
kept going
because the inhabitants
were drawn into the centre
of an absolute power
no mention was made of the two man
dressed in black standing
at the gate
on which
more power grew
clouds upon clouds
upon clouds
impressing the same colour
on everything
the striking unity of the hen's
thought in the hen's heart down the hen's bowels
so that when the director spoke
all were punishment
the result was a circle of manipulation and the retroactive
need of the followers.
three tickets were sold, one given for free
and for that reason it was accepted
the day grew brighter the landscape neater
here a group gathered down there another dispersed
French murmured Greek chattered
explaining the hen's death in metaphysical terms.
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