Bullets bitten so hard

all you taste is metal and blood 

still the pain lingers 

The crystal-blue sky 

belies the coming storm that

carries mayhem with it 

The crane flies from the 

island, spooked by a gang of

rowdy, rough seagulls 

Sickness slips into

the body politic and

slowly eats away 

 Blank canvases can

offer a new world or a 

ceaseless fearful void 

They gnash their awful

teeth and wail their awful wails

but nothing changes 

Dopamine drained from 

developing brains serves the 

unquenchable Dow