A graveyard makes a small nest
in the stairwell. Three mannequins
dressed in gore, laying side by side.
The science lab’s window is now
embellished with a miniature marker board
that reads “1 bleeding to death”
Library: war zone. Bodies scrunched
like fists under desks,
wearing book bags like bullet-proof vests.
In the lunch room
are men in black trench coats, plucking
machinery from duffel bags and flattening the
pulse rate of innocent souls.