The Clarity of Violence

A swelling voice rumbling
over asphalt rivers,
crashing and tearing at
pillars of silence and
secrets.

The first cracked pane,

the first remembered pain,
the shards of glass sparking
memories of fire and fury
to be torn down.

Rushes of pulses,

waves of heat,
demolish,
demolish,
destroy,
swaying with adrenaline.

Regret long gone,

pity forgotten,
power for the powerless,
chaos for the masses,
tolling the bells.

Sweat on the brow,

a growl in the throat,
the hurled brick, stick
or stone;
flames roar on the pyre of
the poor.

The moment so clear,

now muddled and muddied
in the graying light,
it was for…,
it was for?
what?

I was so angry

I don’t remember why
I was so angry. I was caught
up in the rage tornado
and I’m no longer in Kansas.

I knew what I was

after,
but now,
after;
it’s less clear
and I just want to go
home.