In my townhouse, watching AETN.
Then devils screaming, massive concussion.
I’m thrown to carpet, paying for my sins,
covered in rubble. I dig out. Confusion.
Only mountains of debris where once stood
Crestwood Manor, Grace Church, Mount St. Mary.
I stumble lost through the old neighborhood:
Historic Hillcrest now bodies buried
in hysteric ruins. Dazed souls wander.
I stagger up Kavanaugh to Palm Street.
Bill Asti’s office building gone. Mind stirs:
So this is Syria. Yemen. My feet
feel quakes. Distant thunder. Mushroom cloud. “Wow…
just wow,” I whisper. “It won’t be long now…”
Roger Armbrust
September 23, 2016
