Shard

Fireworks at the periphery of memory
on a hot dusty night road
And yellow lights to illuminate
the place where a shard of glass
and the sounds of water
supersede everything for a while.
Wait until the end of our great loss
so we can see the swarming of
belts as red as droplets of blood
and the end of a coughing chaos
that only meant
something to the assailants of this world.

You don’t like karma as much when it fails to serve you
and your narrative to pull the shard of guilt
from your conscience.

Give up.

We have you surrounded.

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