Past the gates of Socialism

after Spomenik #19

Think of this
as statuary: a silent Trojan with
no means of language
no face to venerate
no answer to the pillage
beneath its lonely outpost

listening to a sledgehammer
of scavengers scaling the hill at dusk
with their haul of scrap matériel
from #1 through #18

Underneath the old battlements
a vigil hums from
bones of old rifles and courage
as evening trembles and
this grandeur turns like an empty

or is this an ark grounded
after escape,
a forgotten blessing,
a haunting into wilderness

by Marc Nair
from Spomenik (2016)