momentum
there was no prophecy
future events unfolding surrealistically
captivating a connected world
only seconds earlier impassive
smoke and heat and fire
building upon its own propulsion
like an early morning spark
innocently lit within an otherwise
booby-trapped concrete stairwell
which way to run
which way to stop or go
wifi no longer of use
no signal no nothing
a voice inside says
drop everything and run
this is no map to follow
vertical tunnel without exit signs
traffic cops on the outside
helplessly looking in
right arm circling crazily
all on foot having the right of way
from this point forward
september two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
jdubqca 
wow wow wow
thank you
Most excellent poetry.
Thank you, Shawna.