Dispatches from Atlantis


A Russian bartender sleeps on a hilltop

Staring into an alley

That is itself a corridor into a bridge where there is no other side.

Meanwhile, the Bolivarians rally

Circling about and ensaring a group of fascists

Down on K street.

Indignados ride on the shoulders of their grandfathers

Men who fought alongside Orwell,

And lived what was then only an imagined reality.

And as this occurs, a scene opens on a man on a keyboard

Clapping and clicking


An unknown message transcribed

in the lap of a dark missionary buried somewhere

on this side of Atlantis.


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