he thought he left it it left him
on the ruined street
the not unwarranted Machiavellian slaughter
shattered bits of glass like mica throwing
the sun back up into its face hotseething oil coolant and blood
blood shimmeringreflective
surfaces that might have been gorgeous if it were not for their composition
the slobbering cries of the
wounded
the surreal mute of the dead
the chainmailled dragonfly knew where
he lived
he glimpsed it just above the roof
of his house
recognised it dove down and hovered before his face
again
What?he implored
he hadnt a book in his hand for
it to alit
it hovered effortless as he breathedas blood pumped through his
heart and veins
What?
You didnt say Certainly you must have felt something for
your humanityfor the innocent
I have found that my humanity for
a long time has not been common And uncommon
I realise and have accepted I am separate from the whole
I saw your act of derision an
act of Nature
I prefer Nature to humanity
I understand the turquoisetrimmed .270calibre dragonfly reared
deftly awayturned a cold shoulder and banked into air and skydisappearing beyond
a reef of cypress trees
1534, Monday,
25 9. 17
