Meltdown in Manhattan, read all about it!
Immortal mortar murder morphing metropolises to Mordor!
Does that ring a bell, m’lord?
I am skin and bones, I am pointy nose
aimed at the ground like a beachcomber
scanning for scraps amidst the wreckage, restless
air raid sirens akin to birds chirping in the aching morning through a mega-megaphone
on a loop that doesn’t end
like a vile roller coaster designed to rip bile from the intestines
An opera of screams. Shroud the cityscape,
shadows and candles. Blue hour. Evening news is the new
Evening blues. Thieves and crews of first responders responding too late.
Too late like the warning. Too early like the bomb. On time
Square. Circle and line
on the wall. The word is big.
Fire is huge.