A Group of Vultures at Rest is Called a Committee

The water tower dry, the name erased. The city: bisected, then again, then again. Pulsing lights. Chimney smoke. Rippling flags. There is order in death: a hall of power atop a mountain of stairs. Warping sirens. Garden beds. Sun-smeared glass. Decay has no allowance for chaos. Carbon: halved, then again, then again. All is putrefaction … Continue reading A Group of Vultures at Rest is Called a Committee