This week’s guest poem…
Welcome to Post-weekend Poetry and the one hundred and twenty-third poem in this series. This week’s piece is by poet and novelist Tokoni Uti.
The silver-laced seat of power sits before the gold-plated crucifix.
The lesser ones sit in duplicates of six.
The stranger scans the room with trained eyes.
And charms the watching audience with precise lies.
His lips quiver in reference to aged symbols.
His fingers circle in adoration of ancient enrol.
He sits steadily in the middle of comfort and torment.
And demands silence in the execution of judgment.
I asked Tokoni to tell us more about this piece and she said…
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