After That, What Remains?

[sgt.null]

After That, What Remains?

at distance, three crosses
in a field, now empty.
sunwashed and silent, cast
iron light, oblique glow.

there are three houses
planted where the conifers
once permeated. empty save
streets mapped. paper streets.

chaotic beauty of the street
scene below. flashing lights,
arcs of water, billowing
clouds of smoke and steam.

gated gates also permeate.

evening sky is sodium-arc
pink. fading to smog taupe.

dusk hums through weathered
black plastic, rotary dials -
party lines. obsolete technology.

a half-moon lows over
the ocean. ethereal blue.
surfing on noise and color.
howling at hollow skies.

count the craters down.

my head is filled with wires.
my mouth is filled with smoke.
I know the chemicals...
grinding my milk teeth.

bitter halogen lingers. grey
plastic fragments. the metal
in my voice grating.
corrosive, explosive and distant.

dog paddling in open sea,
the survival of memory.