Crimes will be measured ‘fore a crowd
that braves iced wind. I will define this motion
in the eyes of the living and the not-so-living. In
me you have a cured saviour; a windswept
giant that you gawp at en masse with shivered
smiles and sheepish sniffing noses. Be my
children, wet, wry and cold, as I was a child
to those before me. These walls hang staring
smiles, now anon and gazing, and enclose
what words are uttered with stillness. Gallop
for a new world and I will shoulder what I may;
find love in me and I will take these cloistered
dreams to a world anew. I am your king and
you will love me.
Vast Imbecility 