‘Where to now?’ shouts the fire
on the edge of the island where the curly grass burns.
There will be no jumping from this platform, you rats,
you puppets of passion,
scurrying about your business as the flame-shadows
tower over your desperate bodies
looking for one more thrill ‘fore the damned thing runs out of gas
and night comes on again.
She gave Orion one more cold look before closing the blinds.
No comments:
Post a Comment