thousands’a grey clouded

by blake ellington larson

smoke infested war ships
closer to us
than the horizon
as fire engine sinkers
and thousands’a beached
torpedo strikers
are on their way
straight from world war II

and as we leave
the three of us
in attempt to escape
the thousands’a headlights
and head lamps
comes searching fast
for what’s left
as we hold the master plan
in suitcase

treachery in our step
we gently stand
to fight by way
of the tennis shoe

our war
and theirs