recycled

In Conspiracy City

I barely blink when the
fighter-jets come
screaming down
the valley

or when I see
a line of
Black Hawk helicopters
precisely perforating
the sky

but the midnight
entrances & exits
of transport planes

the small
signs
on the
highway

telegraph posts
pointing
the brown convoy
in this direction
the blue
in that

make
me wonder
when the pre-
emptive strike
is coming.

& this
is only a
whisper
of what it’s
like to live
in fear.