Part II
His bony tentacles scraped
the withered red oleander flowers
of the green synthetic grass.
In the distance waved a tree
its leaves at him. It was the last true
part of nature in this quarter
where even the neighbouring
twin girls had turned largely factitious.
Screaming their lungs out as
not a single parent had ever
made the effort to stop them from
yelling at the void of a world.
Watering the oleander shrubs
in the earthenware pots from a basin
underneath the plastic blades
of grass, he sensed a vacuity
in this minute preservation of nature.
Had not all become dystopian
as the fighter jet curved over
so low that even the twin's screaming
and his thought were outcried
© 2024-09-03
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