July 10th 2006: the News
Flipping through,
The channel caught, and stayed.
Manhattan's sky again was black and blue.
I watched afraid.
On some street
The architectural bowels
Of offices had spilled their load, replete
With doctor's tools,
And thank God
No one was killed, although
My terrorist-fragged mind remarked how odd
It should be so.
That the bomb
Would strike when most were out
And strike a small apartment left some
Room for doubt.
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Later when
A snarled email was found,
The NYPD booked one of the men
Pulled from the mound,
Who, at last,
Fed up with his divorce,
Had balled up all his hate into a vast,
Concussive force,
To allow
His wife's excessive vigor
A proper heap so that she could be now
"a rubble-digger."
It was merely
One more domestic tension.
A building blown for only this seemed barely
Worth mention.
by Daniel Janeiro |