past the last freeway
hike the last mountain
ready to be cleared out.
stand on the summit,
screaming a handful of truths;
no-one turns. just a flock of handguns and
grenades flying past,
honey dripping from the sun.

trail narrows.
dirt holds dead undergrowth.
they fall, one by one.
reborn, no place left to go.

 

*****

prompt that inspired this