Not Innocent

Not Innocent

The chime of the clock rang –

A broken call forth to arms

All the same broken. He called

Out to the great crowd by the overgrown lawn

In the courtyard and shouted pleas to the chief.

But her ears remained closed behind doors

Corrupt with greed and callous desire.


She tore them to the ground

And upon their graves she basked in glory

“The budget has never looked so good, Harlene”.


But now they have come for the art history;

Perhaps we should fall into the arms of assent

Atop their broken dreams –

Who will we be?


We do not know where to begin,

Resistance is futile;

For the institution wins,

Over the faint cries,

Drowned by money

They celebrate in their towers, the clock chimes. 

This article first appeared in Issue 22, 2018.
Posted 9:52pm Thursday 6th September 2018 by Marlee Partridge.