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Get a copy of this writing in the Mark Fleury 2017 poetry book the Eight Wheeled Doorway of Serpent’s Head on line:

The Desert Heat

Mark Fleury

The desert heat
Has burned away
My head, turned all
Of my walls red. The flames
Are spreading across
My living room, windows

Shattering back to the sand
That surrounds the gun I carry
With bloody hands.

Broken glass falls
From the sky around
The army that guards children
Running away from an explosion,
Down the center of a city street.

Helicopter shadows
And engines are hidden under
The helmets of soldiers
And firefighters.

Their chopping
Thought-sounds are
The laughter and their
Teeth are the fragments
Of window panes.

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