walking across wall
street, i was under
attack by 10 million million
roaches.
their painted
faces and waving
forms struck
fear into my
bones.
their gleaming
spears bit ominously
into the ground all
around
me.
like a
sign from the
gods, their projectiles
froze in
mid-air
as i scurried
down broad
street.
their commander
glared fiercely
down from the edge of a
cornice.
i murdered so
many of their
ancestors with poisoned
hands.
charge after
charge they
made––their
dead falling as the
sun
dimmed.
fly whisk in the
air, the chieftain
turned away &
the clattering drums
stopped.
the army
vanished with the
wind, & in its
wake, silence
& liberated
breath.