The Purge

Round them up like derelicts
prisoners of war
to eliminate the risk
of wishing for the miracle.
A spine compresses
from ceiling weight
and clouds above a world of ants
while shaking hands burn 
en route to closet corners
with real-life Kryptonite 
in the form of left belongings.
Reduced to Mr. Kent again
dreaming through alarms.
The rent's been paid to Caesar
though home has driven south.

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