somebody’s going to die in the land of fools
tower guards flash spotlights
across the desert sky filled with zeppelins
searching for someplace to hide
the wreckage in the field goes unnoticed
for nearly a fortnight
by the time help arrives nothing is out of place
ever since
black sheep wander the land of fools
where someone is certain to die
any given night
slaughtered by supersonic streams of consciousness
running artificial red lights
may two thousand fourteen
copyright j matthew waters
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