| N.Y. 9/11
Out of the sky their telephones and desks, answering machines, fax machines, computer screens, e-mails, coffeepots, Garfield on the door, plants, art, postcards, fingerprints, DNA. Falling out of their own hands, jumping into the don't-let-me-drown fear of a child, arms stretched out towards the street where life is, where the radio talks about destruction, where fear rages on the safety of tarmac, eyes of people not dying, splatters where hearts break as the ropes break where children die as they drown, wagon loads full of voices shatter, flowers listless, hands and dust as the radio swims towards floodlights, voices choking, steel ramming Manhattan manholes. |
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