broken rape whistle.

she muttered my old name and I was a hurricane
under her breath, words lay to rest
never again I told her
never again

I wore the clothes for a second and felt the wind bite
the gusts snapped like jaws clap
every passenger in the car could have felt the ground
each syllable explode

woman, your heart is the color of your hair
never again that name
I'm the rorschach weather pattern forever
board up the house

those are not cities anymore.

we've been redirected

I've cleaned my gunshot wounds with water from the river

they watched curiously from the shoreline across.

[I set rooftops afire.  When I look at the horizon I only see smoke and embers.  My wake has been devolving revolutions.  I see the vultures everywhere, hidden in costume.  Twitches, details, secrets only a river rat like me would know.  My silence is deafening in my own head.  I say nothing.  I say nothing.  I say nothing.]

we can rest here, for a second

but soon we'll have to move again so they don't...

and then my words were lost in my gaze to the east.

[Catching your breath is a game for the weak.  I've always had it, I just never knew.  I say nothing.  I practice the fine art of wincing in the light from the fires I started.  I'm sorry.  I'm so sorry.  I never knew it would be so bright.  The smell of sulfur will always be in my hair.] 

"Get Ready To Run."

we mutter that under our breaths at all hours

so that this will never happen again

[I've got these options, see.  I've got all these fucking pockets with nothing in them, screaming at me.  I am the cause of these smoke trees reaching far into the sky.  Find a new home.  Pieces scattered in the wind.  Transplant yourself.  Once, I even walked on the beach on a late evening until I found myself again and there were no gunshots and I said nothing but what I really meant was that I was sorry.]