.



( we who wonder where you are )


( •      • )


And

Why do you stay in the fires burning (?)


)•(

one drifting image fading

The tiny child on the streets

The drone plane circling overhead


The missle loaded and about to go


We sit and watch  but never see

Really anything at all


•••••+•••••

The sweet young girl child

The muse of the poets who live

( the few who've survived )

::


I made love to a poet once


In the morning all there was

Was a pool of blood that spelled out

The word

BROKEN !

On the floor

Amid the sound

Of demons laughing

"""•"""

She

Was a cute kid


Now she's dead

A 12 year old

Dead terrorist

|||

we wander bravely from

Bedroom to bathroom

To kitchen

To school

Telling tales of mundane

Brief fantacies

And forays

Into reality

But then we left and come here


//

The vintage day

($)

All the frills

)(


We

Tiny bodies


So abused
:

.