Wire networks of word-of-mouth whispers
pass through litmus test labyrinths,
steam rising in cylinders from the pipes.
shuffling through manila files of aliases,
greyscale negatives, whose backlit
blank-eyed stares lacerate the sky.
Smoke screens diffuse
as arsenic heuristics wilt in
Is it just me or do you hear castanets clamoring?
then the placid burning plastic
of drained gene pools.
Startled screams muffled under the surface
temperatures on the rise.
You really should read the weather reports.