fire

slick slippery sweat
slips oily over my skin.
i have sprung a leak.

as the world turns round
we find us somewhere different.
yet we are still there.

slipping sanity
into the well of madness.
grasping for candles.

the men that make war
live in gilded palaces.
pretending to care.

feet pitter patter
on hard asphalt snakes of gray.
bellows stoke the fire.

the censor is blind
to the atrocities we find.
business as usual.