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Showing posts from April 16, 2006

Shattered House

On a childless street she stands, her face thrust in her hands, laughing furiously. One man lies under his pushcart upon the dampened loam, liberated of death. A joyful military marches by on whispering conquest toward surrender. A mangy old dog, ribs showing, tethered a shattered house, mocks them.

© 2006 by mark prime