Trapped in the belly of the whale
Where the pigeons fly like doves
All left of women a few stray hairs
Orange warning lights
And pinocchio's faded grafitti
This belly where sequined walls
Catch the gleam of torches
That men use to read tales of Nazi heroics
Before consigning them to flame
Watch
Their shadows are the words that write themselves
At night they whisper of lost continents
Of bones that lie in fur and pine
Those Men who live inside the whale
Safe from the ever rising
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