Ignis Fatuus

He’s the Yoshimitsu of Boyle Heights,

And my nights by the water make me

Katara of the Golan Heights.

 

Worlds apart.

 

Bending water over the edge of the fire hot land of the North,

I stand staring.

 

That being which has it’s being and

Staring at what is.

 

Air heavy with heat and hellfire,

I hear the rumbling thunder of your weapons.

The earth hollows with your impact.

Crude craters now where homes stood;

I stand staring.

 

That being which has it’s being is no more.

I stand staring at what isn’t.

 

Airstrikes strike me as dastardly,

And my pen strikes the page haphazardly

As I cap a haggard verse that bleeds.

 

No daylight to separate us,

Only land masses and masses of outlandish policies.

The low rumble of thunder sounds like home to me,

But that heinous explosion disappears your property.

 

Standing under the hot sun, I stand hearing what is.

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