To those in the air.
I am on the ground.
one of the underpeople
who hears an explosion
and feels the blast.
From above it is a puff of smoke,
a pepper of dust.
Fly away, and leave us
to comfort the girl who screams
because she cannot find
her legs and the man
who bubbles sound
without teeth or a tongue.
High in the air
there is no smell,
just the sweet rush of air,
the neat phrases
on the radio.
It must be like having wings.
grasshopper
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