glorietta

restaurants and designer shops
within my voice box were burned down.
the occupants, stunned.

pyrotechnics were in full bloom,
and the angelic orchestra then played
their violins loudly somewhere.
performed a sad, early afternoon party song
for everyone.

and their ghost mimes did scream out
into the faces of the young and old.
it’s scary; it’s not brilliant, but
it’s good that our atoms are
still alive.