Here, we learn the difference between
fatalities and murder. We are all crude
sketches of ourselves here, squinting
eyes, fingers creating constellations
from the dents made by shrapnel
in the adobe walls.
We are all good guys, all bad guys,
all pixels and slippery ticker headlines,
all one-second memories. Here, we're
racing toward what we can't see and can't
remember, leaving civilization in the dust
of another bombing, another dry
whisper of Babylon.
