(from the moon series)
explodes over the bridge, aglitter
in the sky, turns heads and stops
crowds. The three a.m. encore,
the business class and the jobless
workers celebrate the fathers and freedom.
We walk without end, until steps blur,
until sidewalks sweep, until bombs wake us
suddenly, with flashes and nervous yells,
breaking holes in people.
The moon just watches the chaos. Happy
to be far, eats popcorn and witnesses
the gleeful screams of bodies
avoiding another firecracker.
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