I heard a story today of
Dead bodies dancing in Madagascar
Of ignorance lingering
And political faith put to the test
New conceptions like another Sunday
Void of inspiration and
Poets of drowsy thoughts
Drowning below the fractured surface
A poet is always lost in translation
Too many unknown houses
Too many cosmopolitan pacifists
Shouting at blank TV screens
I had a story once
On truth, necessity,
And scientific hypotheses
The darkness swallowed everything
As the dancing ladies sang
The asylums emptied.
On the dull paths by the river
No graffiti of love
I take a deep sworn vow
To look death in the face
No matter what the dance
No matter what the consequences
This is the shape of things to come
A lack of poets, who sing,
Not to the burdensome face of beauty
But the drifting bodies
You never let settle around you.
How do you characterize a story?