although it has to be nudged, plowed

arm in arm, conspirators in the murky dusk,

but do not hold your breath!

already the inspector is on the prowl, his

baton is heard tapping away, to find protestors

amazed at the ground shifting, the tap water has

become blood, nah, it is just iron mixed in said the landlord

even though it was metallic like, sure tasted like blood.

whose blood?

but my voice was shut down, discredited

as hearsay. i tried to make a comeback, a retort,

found my throat parched – so i sat down, tried to gesture

and it was all quite futile; you see the verdict had already

come in that it was iron, nothing to be alarmed about

nothing to protest about, blood in tap; the juries

yowled like hyenas saying it must be past midnight,

your blood?

and the judge stopped in mid sentence, the inspector shuffled

about uneasily, the juries seemed to be trapped in time, unmoving

as veins leaked, purplish, blackish, then a sigh. never mind, false alarm

a slam dunk; the fickle crowd praised where the sun still rose,

all eager to not taste iron. it’s iron. it’s iron, they drank heartily

with grimacing faces, puked out blood before bedtime:

snoring away finally to tepid dreams, fingers twitching

away to grasp at the ephemeral nothing, solid wall sliding

down to suffocate, heave, heave … …

my blood?

breathing easily again, now the smiles were wider than before,

it is always christmas time, jolly good old days, hands slapping hands,

the verdict was again to announced; what verdict there be it sure

seeped into the warm milk, all curdled and it took some effort to swallow

those meaty chunks still quite a feat, all that nutrition replenishing

the worn out, the fat, the fatter

till the iron settled down in the well

till the crescent moon no longer appeared

till blood rained down from the heavens;

then the crowd went insane, tap tap about with their own batons

while an inspector fled the scene, not my problem any more he cried!

the gavel hits the table and no one was around to listen;

order, order – it is just rust in the air; and the blood drenched cadavers

snarled. mine, yours, it is everywhere save the prisoner who

has disappeared from this mad town, where where?

curdled, churned, solid blue crashing down on earth,

heaven is heavy, too heavy

no wonder no one wants to pay attention;

then the crescent slice from up above traveled down;

sliced away at cadavers that groped, hitched, attacked

blood – holy water.

heaven roars; delayed judgement, and of course everyone

knew how power works, so they kept their lips sewed,

hey it is a verdict, a baton slamming hard on the giant wall

quite blue. blue faced neighbors no longer wanting

to have any more to do with settled rust.