False Flags

What is loss what we didn’t
Even know yet was in

Those others also a part
Of ourselves unknowable

I am withdrawing
Every image of the event

Now, what is left being
The remnant, hard kernel

Of how they’ve maintained
Consent, the citizen being

A fiction and the people being
A fiction, nations don’t exist

Really just this proximity,
To disaster borders determine

Who gets to feel this sense
Of tragedy, whose death matters

What comes back comes
The fuck back clutching

At a lack every image
Still tries to fill, a hole where

The truth got clipped
In the attempt to list

The names of the dead
What else is lost, displaced

By an intention to make visible,
Unaccountable though it may

Always return to the place it was
The motion of this

Withdrawal without caption,
Or negative space or silence

Surrounding it being
What is left, calls me back

From a sense of process to you
History in those arms the

Opposite of immunized would be
Secret name of God or

A negation we’ve always dreamed
Casualties of false flags

Full of grace and excepted
From witness, through peace

Do we dominate, through
The millions we’ve captioned.