Unsharpened

in that blind dream we can hear them chanting
we can hear them stomping in a capitol square
paved with thin marble, watched by dead statuary
and we know there must be a balcony somewhere

they should have their chins tilted upwards
they should have their children lifted high
they should be waiting for the breaking
they should be waiting for the lightning sky

watch them circle the famine memorial
watch them gather against the anomalous brigade
watch them leak their virtues in the daylight
watch them find their courage in the shade

they must believe in their metallic symbols
they must believe in their unbroken bell

they will be needing their new ritual agonies
they will be needing their low histories to tell

the emperor is imaginary
but the clothes may still be real