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The water was eating the land
The air killing the stars
It was the end of the world
But God was on the Internet
Watching the events unfold

The new Galatea in her solitude
Stepped out of her clothes into the shower
While Pygmalion stroked a bit of stone
Until it warmed under his hands
Eyes blind to the fresh girl
Washed free from dust,
As she put a camera to herself
And reported for CNN.

The old men with purple stripes were noisy without words
When blood ran a stream through the senate floor
They stepped onto a higher ground.
But they poked theosophy
Out of passive bodies sitting in front of the TV
Marinating in their own sweaty fear:
It could've been me!
And glad it wasn't them-
Donated another gold leaf:
For God and the senate floor.

The conscious shape reality.

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The following comments are for "This Place"
by Furius

"For God and the senate floor."
some wonderful lines in this, and the pulsing, pulsating, driving anger is adds grit and guts and meat... followed this too to "better this way" which was as convincing a portrayal and as moving an evocation of grief as I've read in quite some time... will have to catch up with your other poems. look forward to reading more.

( Posted by: AuldMiseryGuts [Member] On: August 2, 2007 )

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