Blast Fire Collapse

the little slips of girls go past, smoothshouldered,
all in their summer clothes, their Liberty prints springing springlike
as white billows up, undampened by
the water streaming

another building gone to rubble--
the senseless sight and smoke
sears the eyes raw, raked
over on hot coals

blast fire collapse
terrifying trinity, this particular sequence
of words, smudged onto the pallid
newsprint of the grey lady, the News

and Hamilton's paper
oh, the sick stomach, the dagger
through the heart, hearing of the
wraiths wandering away from this

unholy conflagration, plaster powdered,
eyes staring, the brow cut there, and there,
and there, testament to the foul handiwork
of others, black beetles tunnelling through ancient dung