13
ruins
by James Jackson
I.
Bullets ricochet
in every entered home
and they are similar
to ballet, a delicate
do not fall wherever
you cannot stand back up
but pirouette anyway–every room
spins the opposite of you.
II.
Hair on the surface of bleeding
bricks. The house of
violent storms. Mortars
with every step.
III.
Heaven, the insurance premium,
costs far too much.
IV.
We are legless because
we cannot stand. Wingless
because no one believed
we would fly again.
V.
During construction,
no one built us for the long-term.
There are nails in every crook
of skin–every place you look.