Low Hanging Fruit

Empty.

The street has run dry

of hungry monsters.

My feet are running.

Although I have not told them,

they know this cannot last.

The Fall of Detroit

And now for a taste from far outside the wall of Chrysalis, back when the walls were still on the rise and the world was already making ready to evict humanity.

The Fall of Detroit

I am curled

in the corner.

A blown wrapper, hiding

in an ice box

apartment.