Poem - The Sun Is Going Down On The City

The Sun Is Going Down On The City

The sun is going down on the city

dusk is approaching

haze disappearing in the distance

Soon the cool will return to drive away the heat

until morning

The game is over and

the loss still stings

the news returns to the carnage the next city over

that must end soon

as all things must end

You will not be your neighbor

and sink into insanity

although the fires have spread to home now and

the reporter says

the military has been summoned

prepare for martial law

until the storm has passed

Soon the shots on the north of town will be silenced

And all will be back to normal

Tonight she will be waiting for you

dolled up eyes in black shadow

painted

skin exposed for your eyes only

Hair to perfection

though slightly out of place

her planned flaw to prove the beauty is real

TV is warning to stay inside but

life is for living and

she is waiting

The walk is different this evening

tension in the air

sound of gunfire in the distance

A great weight of expectation

hangs from the roofs

drags the vines from the walls

Suddenly the sound of suction

escape of air from the tube

whistle of the mortar

the explosion

and the shaking of the ground

buzz of the metal

gliding past your face

pellets pass by

concussion pressing air into your ears

so the whistle remains

but screams are dampened

until the next mortar

exits its smoking birth canal

and the screams come back

the punch in your stomach

from impact

rise of the earth under foot

Who is that woman pulling herself

on one knee?

Is it the mechanic’s wife?

Do you run to her or

back home

for your family

where they are waiting

where you left them

or do you run to her

waiting for you

streets away?

The tear in the firmament of air

pushes forward

missiles hit the wall of the hairdresser

expose white legs covered in concrete and crimson

Who is that shouting to God

as the sun goes down

setting like a perfect picture at the end of the street

its rays lifting out in every

direction but down

beauty burning in the midst of chaos

unable to hear the sounds of this tiny sliver of humanity

calling out for death and mercy

There is an uprising in your country

an uprising of foreigners

an army of the messengers of God

clothed in armour

Made in the USA

fashioned out of American

surface to surface missiles

drunk on feudal money

and the virulence it buys

The arc of love and hate has crossed

itself here as it has done before

when the world was in its infancy and

before you were unlucky enough

to be born

in your own time

on top of gas and oil

in the center of the earth

in the sites of the Great Central Bank

in the shadow of America

and the chosen race

Don’t worry

if you don’t survive the murder

mother will keep your room waiting

your cat will wait as long as she can

though her life will be shorter

I’m sorry to say your grandmother will give up living

though Papa will have no choice

he has to feed the children

America didn’t kill

Another rocket falls

the wall slides down

falls inside itself

roof angled down

Inside the remnants of the day

and the neighbor’s baby girl

For a second the game flashes through your mind

missed goal and celebration of Australia

can’t remember the score

Why would you think of football

at a time like this?

as the gunfire gets closer

the sound of the suction of the mortar

repeats and so the

whistle and the shock

of falling back to earth

You reach the steps of what was your home

no windows

no walls to hold windows

no curtains to block the blood

that trailed through the veins of your family

for generations

and the tile of the kitchen

until reaching your feet

check the house

for anything moving

goodbye kitty

check the rooms

what’s left

bedroom

kitchen

follow blood trail

goodbye grandma

Mother and father were out

Yes, they were out

there is hope

Dash the street again amongst the whistle and the whine

The popping rapid popping

screams now white noise

Streets look different

Where is the shop? Where is the liquor store?

There is a cavern where it should be

Whistle and whine

Popping

You have found her

In time to feel the pleading in the touch of your lover

For mercy

For end

For escort to eternity

Silence of the vanquished spirit

The vacancy of eyes that once

Beheld the Mediterranean by candlelight

Hand in your hand

No time to say goodbye

Who is that in the grey light?

Are they coming to drag your twin from the rubble
or are they taking aim?

Gather up your life now

Forget the patterns you had woven yourself into

The patterns are broken

The coil of time and love has come undone

This is the year of the slaughter

It is time to have it out with America

On the soil of your ancestors

Brandon Turbeville © Copyright 11/15/17  All Rights Reserved