among the calls for silence, whizzing leaks of gas, broken statues, splinters and a sorry -ss someone with a badly ruined day. nails already start to rust. just like the sun behind all that bl–dy smoke. godd-mn. it is not just smoke. it is a camouflage of our fear. of each other. who are strangers. who are evil. in reaction, streets are covered in glimmering gl-ss, again. cr-p only deeper, again. only, we cannot see it through the smoke.
the smoke is more than the day’s breath
like a cloak to hide our depth of fear
are we waiting for that first blast
for pieces of gl-ss to ring on the street?