(headline, Boston Globe) The moon burns bright enough to see but I’m not allowed glasses it’s all blurry to me The night is so quiet there’s hardly any noise no more cries from the little boys We looked at each other disbelieving the shake moved in a panic as the walls started to break We […]
Sheila Evans
Posted inArts + Scene
For Lavish Reynolds
Pulling over out the car the phone Telling the officer world what’s going on happening Smelling the fear blood when the gun appears fires four shots Understanding every time today is possibly actually the end. Showing telling Screaming yelling Asking answering Is he is dead.