ELECTRIC TIMES

ELECTRIC TIMES

We had the unenviable task
of running the statistics:
nauseating numbers all,
dead, broken, homeless, wounded
and the detritus these events always
leave in their wake.
 
Another wake awaited us
but our road guide was firm:
“Conduct yourselves like dignitaries” he demanded.
We knew what was meant.
No one wanted to cheer-lead a revolt,
certainly not us.
And this idea of twin kings
or dueling saviors
was dishonest to be sure.
 
I just wanted to retire safely,
back to some wan green garden in the north
where sand flies are rarely seen,
and the water´s edge slaps the boat
and not the hungry, or those pleading for healing.
I could do the numbers, oh yes,
but that human element scared my contemporaries.
To be honest, I was scared, too.
The air was thinner now,
the Time, electric.

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