9-13 Enough

Emerged from reading some dismal account:

Enough

Men carry a large sign خلاص’ (“ENOUGH”)

Barrel bombs strikes their street.
Building chunks soars and rains concrete hail
and a few bicycle wheels
on the mass of men staggering in shock,
others gasping out blood mist.

Dust settles like volcanic ash on their faces,
as they collect limbs and flesh confetti
in wheelbarrows and carts. A daughter pedals
a bicycle, glancing over her shoulder,
absorbing red panorama, her amygdala numbs,
her right ear deaf,

one more Armageddon her tiny brain
stockpiles over the others.