• Vol. 04
  • Chapter 05

The Last Wave Goodbye

The smoke swirls behind the glassy pane;
A chamber of horrors echoing an historical fact
Hidden in swastikas and genocides.
Figures press forward then vanish in swirl
Like a mirage on a hazy afternoon highway.
Screwed eyeballs haunt the taunting shadows,
Press perspiring gaze on glassy secrets.
Smoke swirls and the glass wall perspires.
Hand stretch forth, taunts with hope,
Vanishes beneath the blinding light
Of a camera bulb...flash, flash, flash...

Flashing lights whisper the tale.
The house sits in the darkened corner, smoking,
Cackling laughter echoing the goodbye
As a hand swirls to view; same hand?
And smears the window pane one time.

The smouldering offering pukes
The blackened remains spilling out
In gurneys and black bags,
The hair stink of roasting and silent tears.
The house smoked quietly, staring at the lawn,
Crickets chirping in the gloom,
The moon hidden in the shadows of perspiring clouds,
A hand raised in a wave frozen in the bag
And sirens continue their dirge.

1