Low Cloud

Two figures in a brawl
and I can’t see at all
through this thick fog
that’s taken over most of
everything.

One is bashing in the face
of the other with a stone
it grabbed from somewhere
on the ground here
in this neighborhood
still being built
from nothing in comparison.

In my peripheral a horse
is running circles on the concrete
and its hooves make sparks
and fire with each step it takes
until it catches everything
and burns down through
the muscle to the bone.

A hooded skeleton does
a rubik’s cube on the roof
of a totaled taxi as a hydrant
vomits all it holds inside it,
and I still cannot describe it
but the red eyes of a larger force
are over all the rest of us
too unaware of where we are
to see them.

The fighters clear some
smoke away and finally see
the other’s face and freak out
at who they really are
and how they both wound up there
in the first place.

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