Wednesday, 17 May 2017

The Capital

Seventy miles away from here
Antennae stir in deepening night,
A bristling City casts weak light,
Beneath an ink black hemisphere.

There, straining discs - deaf ears cupped,
Unhook data from the skies,
Assurance given there are no lies,
The information’s not corrupt.

Assured that Science will decode
The worm that seeks to infiltrate,
For experts can eradicate
Shortcomings that might discommode.

The river’s black beside the towers,
The Hotel’s wall is tall and bare.
Well-illumined, this is where,
Below the bridge, a knifed man cowers.

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