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Aug 2018
Fiber optic nerves
wires that fill walls, floors and
ceilings of abandoned and new
constructions of residential
and commercial buildings in Luzon,
Detroit, Orlos, and places in Spain and Russia.

Meanwhile intrepid distracted denials
of wireless connectivity, fills the air.
Imagine the number and speed of attachments,
connections, cravings of How are you?
How may I help you today? Is there anything else
you need?

Nature is still the same
Going out of balance, histories and herstories
swept under rug after rug.
This chosen form, inbound
provided with the only blue planet.
Now showing nothing is ever enough,
no matter what has been
already sacrificed in the past
and is being sacrificed at present:
The shifting tides assuring him
of his place while the
stormy dunes of deserts welcoming
her stillness.

Sudden improper cracks, thunder
and rain arrive on the proudest pavement
tonight surrounding the metropolis.
Inconvenient walls and static downpour
over once promising singing symphonic spaces
on coffee tables and hang-outs.

Some weary commuters take shelter
under random roofs, some
thinking of flowers on graves.
Lovers of seasons, recalling silence
and chaos like clandestine letters scattered
among shadows of cities on overdrive,
unheard and unspoken.

Provincial buses can no longer enter the metro.
Romances on the highway,
under duress tonight.
A gift of mad craftsmen
to privileged warrior classes.
Paying debts that have already
been long paid off.

The sun sets into midnight.
Heavy rain in ink black, like a
deafening incoherence from a severed arm
of a body of a messenger sent
through a battlefield. The pavements
exhales humidity,lifting
a veil towards the red clouds.
Krysel Anson
Written by
Krysel Anson
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