The Sovereign's of Broken Glass

The sovereign’s of broken glass…

have been libeled
and maligned.
Their names cast about
as
coquettish flies
in
hop infused air.

Strategies
based on hypothetical
wretchedness.
Disparaging glances
towards
ripe,
threadbare
wardrobes.

Steady on
mechanical quills!
Do your duty by
these
carping citizens.
Must not forget to drop a quarter.
Hear.
And…
“Sympathy”
from afar
lest
we have relations.


Por supuesto,
best interests in mind.
But of course.

Cemented in tonsils,
sovereign's,
your invisibility is
palpable.
And no one
can
eliminate
your steps.

Sacrosanct chimes
clang
before the sun rises.
Lapis lazuli,
indigo gold,
sapphire glints and
fluorescent scented metals.

One can’t pretend to know.

Perhaps it’s just an
idyllic moment
caught,
stilled.

Gathered
in friendly hives
along the riverbanks.
Hypnotic
shhhhhhhhhhhhhh
of the concrete plants
and passing
barges.
Sharing stories of the city,
into the ears of trees.
Laying,
slumped,
or taut
amongst sweet pea
vines,
sun
bleached grass
and geese crap.

Peeking
From on high.
Saluting!
Salutations!

Mighty
compañero’s.