“Man was matter, that was Snowden’s secret. Drop him out a window and he’ll fall. Set fire to him and he’ll burn. Bury him and he’ll rot, like other kinds of garbage. The spirit gone, man is garbage.” Joseph Heller – Catch 22
Snowden’s secret haunts him
Lurking low and languid wraps around him
A matter of man gushing forth his
Protected, tangible essence
Snowden’s secret lays bare before him
Spilling soft and sanguine there beneath him
When all that we see is all that there is
We are blind
Snowden’s secret, safe from the cold around him
Erected irrepressible shines before him
A man may cut and bleed and bruise and break
Yet, he is more
Snowden’s secret, whispered soft around him
Showing shallow surface we perceive him
A bone machine of clinking clanging parts
He is more
