Grenfell Now Stands As a Monument

Grenfell tower ruptures the horizon, London's skyline is scarred like a blackened diplodocus or a charred monument for a laconic London bridge still burning But look, linen wraps its iron-bones mumifying the city's underclass- an icon for future generations oppressively, grief hauls a heavy granite cross as sharp rocks splinter shins then whips wheeze winnowing breath ascending a modern Golgotha, who unleashed this hydra 's fury whose black breath incinerates the once laughter of our kindred? As family once sung at Christmas, they now hear the endless screech of sirens, the contagious roar of conflagration. Is London another Guernica? trodden by apocalyptic steads with mothers cradling dead infants, rocking their limp limbs in a deep dirge to red-fired skies, furnaced by council fascists as politically the city is fractured. An emerging phoenix will sprout, magenta winged against black, from this burning pyre, a reincarnation. a rebranded London is reborn perused by the London Eye ever vigilant but now blindfolded observing justice for the unheard and voiceless minority as a terrible beauty is spawned