four and a half centuries
since last a poking with a stick
all the windows broken back then
paint covers the car
the police flee the scene
their faces frozen in horror
all over the papers
no one talks of anything else
everyone slowly grasps
the vulnerable human that lowers its window
waving like it is somehow still safe
morning coming up through the smoke
scenes of feral children eating rancid offal
in the tricoteuse trees
no one feels anything at all until later
oh everyone's god, this moment
.
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