Poems on P.F. Bardo — Clandestine Archives

The walls still speak

Fri, 14 Nov 2025 00:00:00 +0000

The walls still speak when mouths close shut.

Beneath the fresh paint, beneath the plaster of renovations, there are sentences that wait.

They do not ask to be read. They demand to be heard.

The city sleeps in its own noise. The neons say buy and the walls reply burn.

Wed, 03 Sep 2025 00:00:00 +0000

The silence of the worker who no longer says no.

The silence of the teacher who no longer corrects the lies in the textbook.

The silence of the journalist who knows but does not publish.

The silence of the river beneath the concrete.