Attic Fan


Burn the yard Set off the grass at one throw
The flames damp and slow
Fell the trees Grind it all down to the pulp
The hot dirt smoke

Or stare out at the road - switch off the lights

Bloody hands Take the house down to the ground
Hundreds of thousands of pounds
Splintered skin Breathe through the old barren frame
A low, loud sound

Or stare out at the road - wait for full flight

Air sucked through the roof - the clouds, the moon and stars







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