The Man Who Made Detroit

He moves with his hammer so slow.

Telling the passers by that they do not want to change too fast and ruin the illusion that you have a self.

I mean; he moves with that hammer slow.

Like a painting you can come back to year after year seeing the same thing, but if you make the years into a flip book you will see a man stealing her heart.

Molasses spattered along the wall. He moves.

Deliberate steps, demolitions that seem to be accidents. Symphonic rubble fall, where the kids get to play once more.
And from his smoky ruins come the children of the ash meandering like rivers to carve a new terrain, poems tattooed across their chest with a Limerick newspeak that echos around any wall. We have come, we have come, we have come for your daughters and sons. Masks shake with anxietal fear like dowsing rods guiding the way through the night.

The drum beats slow. As the raindrops buildup on the window pain to be touched by another collectively running down cleaning the glass as they make it back to their earth home. To puddles, to ponds, to lakes, to oceans. This man with his hammer moves so slow.

Reviews

[TerryDarcy-Ryan akaSh..]

What a strong piece of writing.. you tell a story with such few words and it is layered with visuals.
I really enjoyed reading this Great Job Sir.

Sheer Terror

[Ua]

Thanks Sheer. I am rather new to this whole putting feelings to paper thing, so I cannot tell you how much I appreciate the encouragement, especially from a skill night assassin such as yourself💣 I truly appreciate it.

Ua

[TerryDarcy-Ryan akaSheerTerror]

You are welcome. I really liked this I read it to my son he enjoyed it as well. It is good keep writing.

Sheer Terror

[Ua]

The best review will forever be sharing it with loved ones. Thank you💚