Dying Men In The Square

The octopus's tentacles laps at silver in the mines like the tongue of a dog on water.

The land changes and the people follow.

The men of beauty, rage, and death go to the square donning smart regalia. 

Two yell in the center as the crowd watches. The men kneel and remove the cloth from their carefully cultivated bodies.

The lean arms unsheath blades and pierce strong stomachs,  blood pours and pools under slumped forms.

The people cry or shake their heads as they turn to go home under orange and red skies. 

The octopus remains.