The pilot burns out daylight
with jet engines.
It billows towards the camera.
Ghosted into the air, some disappear
learning to die with no warning,
breaking up into molecules
or die urgent as confetti
glinting in the skyline.
Silver tickertape curls
and weaves in grainy air. The sun
emerges huge as skyscrapers
signal with red and blue haloes. Dazed
we march to a drum in our ears.
A siren boils then evaporates
leaving muffled fear
on an endless sidewalk.
At the corner refugees turn to the river
to see the colossus — jade, heavy, noiseless
As the street expands, a refugee
coughs: How will it be now?
The breeze tastes of jet fuel.