Small red tin contents are shoved in alive secured by chords and held immobile. Shooting out into the night we dance in shade and surprise the moon between tree breaks. Her face is held steady a benevolent glow descending unto her children dancing in shadow grappling in the darkness. There comes a vision an impact unavoidable knees buckling into chin bones cracking and screaming metal. Muted voices inside alarm tingling through nerves blood racing through veins like electric currents seizing muscles lose control. I gaze into her eyes for help and feel peace she holds me to her until I calm assuring me that the vision was only an illusion.
Using Calgary as a backdrop the author satirizes the self-serving nature of the public as it continues to fatten itself, not only physically, but egotistically as well.
delivered to a good result
thanks,
d.