A found poem made from the book Fahrenheit 451 |
The Entire World is a Dark Grey Six bombers were going over, Hunting…. Finding…. And killing all kinds of exotic people who have the special badge. Three seconds later the game was done. The earth was covered in dead men. And then, a young wounded man was given massive jolts of Morphine. Rain started to fall. It rubbed blood off from hands…. Of men who were not M.Ds. They stood with the cigarette smoke curling around their noses, and into their eyes without making them blink or squint. Neither of you is an M.D. Why didn’t they send an M.D? Good god, who are those men? More bombers thundered over then, men hit the ground like mallets. And he let his lips go on moving and moving, babbling on and on. He’s letting his fears out. The murmur of a war machine was almost loud enough to mask his screams. The rushing music of a bomber, let off great tides of sound, and he was still heard screaming. Looking wide eyed, toward the darkness, he felt his chest chopped down and split apart. Strangers come out and cut your heart out, at night in the dark. They come out and violate you. The night passed, and the rain was thinning away by morning. Men were back in snug, “warm” nests and were listening to the whoops of laughter. Happiness is rushing out from men, who passed the darkness. The hunting, finding, and killing is behind them in the night. And now so is he. |