A Public Place - Wire

In this public place

Pigeons move busily

Through the contents

Of a man’s life

In this public place

His last mortal remains

Reflect a private lake

In this public place

Lies fly in formation

Candid fiction spreads its wings

It’s deceptive at this angle

Does truth dance?

Does truth sing?

The private hedge pissers

In anxious alleys

The village boy-wide-men

With a game on their hands

Wait for the sign

That will take them to Heaven

Wait for the sign

Only they understand

In this public place

A carved tree

Burst through an atheist’s heart

And broken promises

Drifted into the shape of footprints

In this public place

Lies fly in-formation

Candid fiction spreads its wings