Sarah S. Shay
(…reports of strange lights: white grids, purple-black oily moons…blue and orange rims…)
Radio Unit: “Helicopter Head, copy?” “10-4, on my way.”
Axels chopping air, Resurrecting from the ground: Hiccupping giant.
The pilot is a Linebacker, rototilling a path for his team.
Friday night football: Crossed with an eerily stark, rural, foggy farm:
Cemetery farm: Dead armies rise from drumming, Dancing with their guns.
Green heads of lettuce, Nauseated by the sound… Salads WILL be tossed!
“Helicopter Head, You are in a no-fly zone!” (It doesn’t matter).
“Who’s in control now?!” Out of control chopper is! Red skies in ‘mourning.’
Helicopter Head Ignites dead firing squads. Shooting, THROBBING pain!
5-to-9 servings Of fresh fruits and vegetables: Casualties of war.
(…reports of strange sounds… unidentified objects beeping, whirring, whistling)
“HH, do you read?” …voicemail: (continued) “oh, hi, HH…”------BEEP!
Message cut in 2 Dead still waltzing in 3/4 Pain is still a 10.