Censorship, poetic thought by George-B)
(the smudge and other poems)
We all value things – essentially worthless –
We make them valuable as they rot into forgetfulness
Gold medals, rings, and pocket watches
Old coins, now not currency,
We all give them extrinsic value
Dry flowers, pressed between the pages
Of out of print volumes, and censured volumes
And put to death volumes, by scorching fire, bonfire of volumes
Dangerously truthful to truth volumes, and tomes of many,
many writings in languages forgotten to time itself,
Witchcraft manuals and other books and manuscripts,
and philosophies we agree not with…
All becoming ash and smoke on the bonfire of un-appealable volumes…
euzicasa 