The smoke formed Gardenias
on corners of mountain tops.
they were exotic goddesses with flowers floating in their hair.
a seamless illustration of an greeek tragedy—
a story where the modern daughter of priam and hecuba warned the people of their wrongdoings here and what needed to be done,
but no one listened.
I imagined the burned grounds like ancient ruins where people fostered their lives and
back yard memories stood like statues
and new visitors overpaid to stare in awe, like the price meant they owned those memories, like the people before this weren’t damaged,
they were lucky to be remembered.
I picked a dandelion and the wind caught it first so I never got to
make a wish
if i did,
i think that wish would’ve been for me.
I walked home and passed a bar.
with people transfixed on tvs not one was showing what
was going on.
I dreamed of albino elephants crossing those mountains, stomping
on the after effects of the fire, creating a valley to lead the hopeless
to a new abode where they can build their empires. it would takes years,
but the albino elephant never left their side. their leaders warned of a new man coming so the people kept doves to keep blueprints that kept their empires certain. however, the people started to kill the elephants after they discovered their taste was a delicacy that would be wanted across the oceans. the albino elephants began turning grey but the people needed nothing more so they laughed and laughed; the elephants left but nothing could touch the people now so they continued to laugh, laugh, and laugh and the thought that they were dependent on the albino elephants.
and i heard that laugh
even after i awoke.
I went to the balcony to smoke a cigarette
the sky was black, but there were others
the burning ends dancing with every inhale.
not one of them spoke a word.
not a whisper
not one concern.