Nocturnal Journalism

Who hasn't seen pricked blood
and wondered
Could that really be clean?

What do normal folks think about
when they drive over bridges?

Where are the rest
of the lucky ones hiding?

Why were my grandmother's
last few breaths
more like the gasps
of a fish with dry gills?

When will that Thomas
remember to doubt?

How short is a life
without reason?

These are the questions
the bricks fail to answer.
Carve it for now.
The Rapture is coming.

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