a spindly girl scrawls narratives
upon her walls in red ink,
candle flames splash shadow and light
flickering across the window pane as rudimentary morse code
to Venus who hangs heavy in the night.

the howling of invisible wolves
ricochets round alleyways and up crumbling telephone wire,
crawls inside the ears of a hypnotized veteran
"remember the bodies of crooked mountains,
remember the barrel of steaming guns,
remember praying to a god you never knew
crouched into submission."

big brother's hands don't rest in the dark,
every silent minute the masses slide into their coffins
cushioned by LCD screens and soundbite slogans.
an endless barrage of information lullabies people
numb into their heaving dreams, and they don't question
when they wake shaking and empty.