rendered ludicrous
Folds of hills dipping down into the river valley have become "peninsulas". A barrage to the left now holds back the water, a river drowned; to make this lake. On the right, immersed in gloom is a museum of odd construction, with spaces unusable from the odd fixation on every institution now having a doppelgänger existence as an "event venue"; an empty shell, a useless void.
Low cloud makes for a gloomy Sunday afternoon. The small sailing craft are out and sunbeams reaching through makes them shine. I thought to say that they were rendered luminous. Instead my mind was cast back to what was here, how it left and the emptiness it created.
Where there's a museum there was a hospital. Where there was a wild shore there is concrete and glass. A rotten little Government, twisted, dark with a corrupt core made a land grab for a developer's joy: shoreline apartments. In return, the hospital, a stout building, would be demolished, a museum built. The smokescreen for this evil was a public spectacle — all come to the lake, we're blowing up your hospital. So they came. Not all left in one piece. The daughter of a gentle family known to me, on a Sunday afternoon like this, left with shrapnel, part of that stout hospital's skeleton lodged in her skull. She never returned.
The memorial stone around this shore, a park in her name, a PR machine, no one held to account, the politician's, the developer's win…No this wasn't rendered luminous. This place, that place — they're rendered ludicrous.
rendered ludicrous
Folds of hills dipping down into the river valley have become "peninsulas". A barrage to the left now holds back the water, a river drowned; to make this lake. On the right, immersed in gloom is a museum of odd construction, with spaces unusable from the odd fixation on every institution now having a doppelgänger existence as an "event venue"; an empty shell, a useless void.
Low cloud makes for a gloomy Sunday afternoon. The small sailing craft are out and sunbeams reaching through makes them shine. I thought to say that they were rendered luminous. Instead my mind was cast back to what was here, how it left and the emptiness it created.
Where there's a museum there was a hospital. Where there was a wild shore there is concrete and glass. A rotten little Government, twisted, dark with a corrupt core made a land grab for a developer's joy: shoreline apartments. In return, the hospital, a stout building, would be demolished, a museum built. The smokescreen for this evil was a public spectacle — all come to the lake, we're blowing up your hospital. So they came. Not all left in one piece. The daughter of a gentle family known to me, on a Sunday afternoon like this, left with shrapnel, part of that stout hospital's skeleton lodged in her skull. She never returned.
The memorial stone around this shore, a park in her name, a PR machine, no one held to account, the politician's, the developer's win…No this wasn't rendered luminous. This place, that place — they're rendered ludicrous.