you run home
from school with your
books under
your arm.
a tin lunch box
with an empty
thermos and
a noisy handful of
cut carrots inside.
the sirens wail
behind you,
screaming madly
from the red speakers
set high upon a pole.
even the pigeons have
scattered from the field.
death and destruction
await, so you run
fast as you were told
calmly by a teacher
in a yellow sweater
with a nervous tic,
you listen with
child's ears,
watching with small
eyes for the inferno
the mushroom,
the blast. trying to
get home to die
with your family.
from school with your
books under
your arm.
a tin lunch box
with an empty
thermos and
a noisy handful of
cut carrots inside.
the sirens wail
behind you,
screaming madly
from the red speakers
set high upon a pole.
even the pigeons have
scattered from the field.
death and destruction
await, so you run
fast as you were told
calmly by a teacher
in a yellow sweater
with a nervous tic,
you listen with
child's ears,
watching with small
eyes for the inferno
the mushroom,
the blast. trying to
get home to die
with your family.
No comments:
Post a Comment