that old miss reliable should roll out of the bed
and land with a thump on the floor was not good enough
she had to roll out of the window, leave the entire
street gasping for air as her electric waves of
suffering were finally revealed and they closed their windows

it was a storm and the tea was all over the floor
pools of hot blood infected with anything the gang could
lay their hands on, and so tainted
it rests coagulating

hardened evidence of evil
the remains of three people
stricken, deserted and leathery

his thoughts were never his own
he walked down the alley
his arms flew back and fro as he walked
but out of synch with each other
his brow was covered with evaporating mist
cooling his head

and now storms of meteors rang out from the sky
he felt it was the future but in fact it was
a real meteor storm, and it was happening right here

hundreds of people lay on damp glass holding binoculars
on this cooling night on the heath
was it to be the end of the world?
or did he believe only in the things
that never mattered

the cool whistle of the cops shot
was the last thing he was to hear
the impact he was spared as
sound travels less quickly
than the hand of death
taking his harvest