Beneath the scatological architecture
There's no breathing
The windpipe shoved down the mouth
Is the rectal passage where
The shit of politicians and
Piss of leaders is cunningly whisked
With the blood of martyrs
Beneath this shitty metaphor
There's no smelling also
You can pass
The putrid smell as fragrance
Make the roses blush -
Kiss the windpipe clean
And call it all a holy structure
Beneath this beneath
People live
And survive
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