His clown makeup is rock dust and blood

They fly

we die

The luck of a boy to have just one eye smashed in

not two

We could love you

imagine their eyes closed

bones crushed so flat there are no feelings

they float

Dream of favorite foods

petting soft cats

holding babies

eating sweets

dancing

Why think of the dead

crushed,

      burning,

           lost to time

When you have 

a keyboard

opinions

and fear!

Listening

to every star

that you only view from America

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