I hide from my friends.
They circle like airplanes
in the fog of Pearl Harbor
battles and the radar

is fucked, so they’re
sharks, and I’m in
the tower, but they’ve
tossed me in the basement,

or I’ve tossed myself,
and I’m cargo like
destroyed Buddhas
rolling off runways

into dense thickets
of barbed wire from
camps where when
we’ve lost our purpose

we’re carted off to die,
and I feel my face,
screaming at the fear,
as I’m chewed up by a

G.E. engine, splatting
and splashing droplets
falling near my scattered
friends.

.