91/2023

The wind is skittish today,
The rain a swirl of shining dust,
Seeking shelter from itself
In every nook that’s open.

The sky is so low it touches
All the scattered symbols
That make up this country
Of fools tied to the past.

Clouds as heavy as ships
Sail across the land,
Gunports open and ready,
And incendiaries spew out.

The bombardment has no
End, leaflets blue with
Propaganda falling into
Open arms of willing slaves.

R 01/04/2023 21:06