Monday, August 20, 2012

Wartime Folly

I mistook a dream for a summer breeze
From a peaceful decade past
Now I'm sweating bullets
In Allandale tower
In twisted gowns
And broken glass

Outside the window
Between nuclear sun and suburban cracks
I see no black mirage
But feel the ricochet
Of cannons on the ground
And a hand upon my back

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