Dust

I cast a glance about the room,

it was empty, an avid void,

as if the very dust had deemed it uninhabitable.

The city was likewise bare

as silent as a mortuary,

yet beautiful and violent,

like the head on collision

of two flower trucks.

I railed against such immaculate devastation,

if the city heard, it gave no indication

and I was forced to search

elsewhere for dust.

 

HG – 1995-2000

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