The Air Feels Like Rain

Dust like empty words blows vacant through the streets

Dusty day dusty month dusty year

Dust fills mouths like cinammon
drool drips past barricades

Time lets no man know
when wrong walked in the door
when children learned to cry
when children became foot soldiers

Doe eyed children dusty haired children
kneel for prayer kneel for mercy
kneel alongside dusty parents

The seeds of oppression are drowning
Voices of the angry the lovers
the mothers rain from balconies
shower people with hate borne of hatred
with love borne of suffering
with sacrifice borne of self-immolation

In the morning the sun rises

Still damp roads writhe with worms
and daisy heads
snipped by the men with the guns
litter vacant lots
pressed into damp sticky dust
like flowers in scrapbooks

In the evening it sets

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