Read Poetry: Sestina: THE DANGERS OF THEY, by Steven Fortune

POETRY FESTIVAL. Submit to site for FREE. Submit for actor performance. Submit poem to be made into film.

Now I’m cornering the refuge of a definition;
algorithms made a rat of me, I’m guilty by association.
What’s an era, what’s a generation,
when the stats are kept so tight?
Where’s attrition when the compass swindles sight?
Who appoints a winner in two claims of divine right?

Duelling definers spar for geist diviners who adjudicate degrees of right.
The spectacle uncovers risk in seeking refuge in a definition.
The impasse hammering estrangement between its weight and volume compromises sight.
Is there such a thing as affiliation, even self-association,
in this era of hermetic numbers exercising its serenely tight
monopoly of flexibility on morals of a generation?

For those who have no interest in the generation
as a spiritual fraternity, there’s a claim on what is right
in the fine print of a war’s declaration statement. Money won’t be tight
forever for the soldiers or the sympathizers. Genocide will rock…

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