and bullies at gas stations cracking their knuckles. And now, now that every trigger finger is itchy, you’re going out like an exorcised Liberace. Hectic, comedic, toxic, alone, a flaming meringue on ...

to fill the sky with wreckage. We clutch our skin, reach for hope from our ankles, We close our eyes, pray for water, pray for answers, We keep our fear in a silent place — we run. There was a flash ...