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(Not the) VOX POPULI

April 7, 2020

BURNINGBUSH.SUSANKIRSCHBAUM.jpg(Poem/Photo/All Words/Images by Susan Kirschbaum/Copyright 2020.)

Hey there Moonbeam

Shining on the wall

How many places can you fall?

I find myself traveling by your light

This singular hope

In this singular night

The vampires gather

On an illuminated box

How many “likes” in this time of illusion

Lest my persona shatter into a million little pieces

Much less than the





Can you see me?

See me.


Pick the flower from the lawn

Better move fast!

Or they arrest you…

Less than six feet away

From the tree who screams (silently, but you can hear)

“It is my day now!”

Go back to your cells

Those houses

Or rooms

That know no home

In a time of mirrors

Manipulated by VOX

Vox Populi

That killed the self

That houses the soul

Who respected the sunlight enough,

To let things grow

Did you enjoy how I posed with my breasts angled upward?

Hit the button

Play the song

No fingers touch the keys,

The strings,

The bow,

The sticks,

That rhythm is all in your head



Pounding you AWAKE!

All through the night

Following a solitary moonbeam

That questions your sanity.

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