Luyện nghe bài hát Lotus Gait

I have this nightmare:
flailing pigeon, her broken
frozen to the freezing pavement.
I turn as if I do not see.

I have childhood memory
of my old man screaming from the seat
to turn from an unfolding horror,
but he could not undo I had seen.

We spoke of it again.
Two more hapless of
the new post-traumatic worldwide disorder.

A syndrome fifth estate,
desperate to batten the mounting horrors
and shuffle on in a global gait.

Content to
in the glow of the
entertainment prisons we
commune before dime-store shrines.
Are but votive lives?

A strangled, twisted
that shores-up of us.
Anything to dull the
of a lotus gait.

As for me a filigree of police tape
to cordon-off the darker scenes.
But the mind stumbles through it
and relives all eventually.
open wide your eyes
and shines a painful
on the guilt, the fear, the shame.

The courage came
from the plasma of the
entertainment prisons we
cling to like shrines.
Are but votive lives?

at heart.
A conformist the start.
A stockholm fifth estate.
A staggering gait.

Its a strangled, truss
shores-up each of us.
So anything to dull the
of a self-inflicted, crippling gait.