basement strategists
heads that fly over the soaked barricades
ears aimed toward seances
biceps in flames
torn abdomens loud blood in every throat
graphics and text mash-ups
folios peddled through rancorous alleys by closely
patrolled networks
boys scanning skies for missiles
petitioning the stars for a portent or a
subterranean witnesses
holding their folios aloft like reliquaries on parole
Desperately waiting for a judge
"All rise"
as fiery as stakes that erupt with swords on the barricades
catching the plaster that shakes from subterranean altars
waiting for us to join them
To be published in the Doomer Anthology.
Andy Oram
May 26, 2019