Keep the plinth free

We’ll leave the plinth free, in Bristol and elsewhere

We’ll leave our plinths free of the half-healthy, of flawed fame raised up

Why deify the speckled whose time is gone?

Why deify the speckled who did right and wrong?

You shout for him and I shout for her

But really we just shout at each other in a sculpture of the absurd

So we’ll leave our plinths free, take responsibility for ourselves

Bronze effigies won’t lead us on from here

No fault of their own, but they are stuck in the past

Statuesque and static, unable to be present, though maybe willing us on from the grave

Willing on our own speckled selves, this present flesh and blood

The only hope available

As we leave our plinth free, holding only fresh air, unattached to old shapes, free of old patterns and forms

And find hope in the space, from no thing, some thing

Listening afresh to unknown and unfolding times

We leave the plinth free, the plinth of our heart, we leave it always free

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