a matter of luck

although it has to be nudged, plowed arm in arm, conspirators in the murky dusk, but do not hold your breath! already the inspector is on the prowl, his baton is heard tapping away, to find protestors amazed at the ground shifting, the tap water has become blood, nah, it is just iron mixed in said the landlord even though it was metallic like, sure tasted like blood. whose blood? but my voice was shut down, discredited as hearsay. i tried to make a comeback, a retort, found my throat parched - so i sat down, tried to gesture and it was all quite futile; you see the verdict had already come in that it was iron, nothing to be alarmed about nothing to protest about, blood in tap; the juries yowled like hyenas saying it must be past midnight, your blood? and the judge stopped in mid sentence, the inspector shuffled about uneasily, the juries seemed to be trapped in time, unmoving as veins leaked, purplish, blackish, then a sigh. never mind, false alarm a slam dunk; the fickle crowd praised where the sun still rose, all eager to not taste iron. it's iron. it's iron, they drank heartily with grimacing faces, puked out blood before bedtime: snoring away finally to tepid dreams, fingers twitching away to grasp at the ephemeral nothing, solid wall sliding down to suffocate, heave, heave ... ... my blood? breathing easily again, now the smiles were wider than before, it is always christmas time, jolly good old days, hands slapping hands, the verdict was again to announced; what verdict there be it sure seeped into the warm milk, all curdled and it took some effort to swallow those meaty chunks still quite a feat, all that nutrition replenishing the worn out, the fat, the fatter till the iron settled down in the well till the crescent moon no longer appeared till blood rained down from the heavens; then the crowd went insane, tap tap about with their own batons while an inspector fled the scene, not my problem any more he cried! the gavel hits the table and no one was around to listen; order, order - it is just rust in the air; and the blood drenched cadavers snarled. mine, yours, it is everywhere save the prisoner who has disappeared from this mad town, where where? curdled, churned, solid blue crashing down on earth, heaven is heavy, too heavy no wonder no one wants to pay attention; then the crescent slice from up above traveled down; sliced away at cadavers that groped, hitched, attacked blood - holy water. heaven roars; delayed judgement, and of course everyone knew how power works, so they kept their lips sewed, hey it is a verdict, a baton slamming hard on the giant wall quite blue. blue faced neighbors no longer wanting to have any more to do with settled rust.