"Somewhere", spoke the grey lips in the wall.
Somewhere before sunrise,
before the first bird crows to dawn
and the apathetic are yet to uncurl
the grit that gathers like dust
between the fold of shallow eyes.
"Somewhere". A derogatory term.
Their humanity bears no resemblance to us
as skin and bone the only price to pay
for "unpeople".
Cities made of paper,
soaked in a drought. Somewhere East.
Or maybe South?
Somewhere far from the guilt
that laden our stomach with lead.
So alien to home, allotted just enough frames
for you to feel how fortuitous;
but not enough so the screams
swallow your evening meal and you swat the sound of flies
pouring through the static of your transient box.