Wednesday, September 2, 2009


All our heroes drop like stones
All our hopes heading home
Rat catcher in the street looking for
Lost life
Fingers fly like numbers
Waves of hands
They all spell the same thing
Listen softly to the asteroid crushing
Bombs crumpling leaves on the ground
Pearly night sky
With ash
All our heroes falling like bricks
Cigarette wrap washing the fields in waves
Nineteen children thrown from media towers
Large sounds of internet confusion
Flatbox lunch hour in a small cube
All the children running towards you
Try to smile
You can't help the red and black over the horizon
Heroes falling towards the ground in purple paint
Hope in something she said with her head as
She turned it towards the
Deadend that was the front of the minivan
Kids all in dissaray
All over the floorboards
Bombs and guns and tanks and latin
revival of biblical things that
You thought as a child that this mess would fall on you
Overjoyed at feeling anything besides
Bunko nights, reality telivision, Nostradamus' ballsack hung on string
And to think
Just ordering a pizza the other night
Car overheating
Hatred of coworker, country, religion, despot, ugly turnover on the road the color of reflecting silver
Large white. Aftermath of some kind of revelation. Looking out in the street, to see your car. Reflection of your face in the white, thin gas. A woman looks up and smiles at you from behing a stroller. Cars become lodged in the road. More noise. Loud noise. Heroes dropping like white ash. You can't remember what Jesus did. You can't remember what Moses said. You scratch your head and wonder what Mohammed was talking about. You look on the ground and see these things that you never saw before in your life. Like rocks, stones, grates, puzzles, wrappers, pebbles, cigarette butts, cans of coke. White light coming down now. No heroes. No prophets. Just this white light coming from North Korea? Iran? Syria? Iraq? The complex next door? President on TV. President says something about blessing whoever. Some shining light in the sky. You can see the shining light, but you don't know why you would bless it. Not with the seagulls and bats being torn from the sky and falling to the Earth like dead heroes.

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