Explosions

Moving boulders from their
resting places at the bottoms
of rock slides to the front
yards of suburban neighborhoods
as decoration.
Breaking ribs and chest plates
she compresses violently to
try and get him to breath again.
Aircraft piloted with wireless
controllers from the safety of
empty hangers, dive straight
into model buildings, to
test how they tear things
apart, as a last resort.
The ghosts of kamikaze
warriors stand and watch at a distance
and smoke cigarettes made
from ectoplasm and spectral tobacco.
Explosions with no soul
are always smaller.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s