In the corner of the ruined room,
she was crying,
frightened of herself
and angry at us.
‘Freedom is full of monsters.
Just get out.’
I ran to summer
in the next room,
where the Goes Orchestral band members,
led by the red-haired midget on saxophone,
made intricate, drug-induced patterns on the stage.
On and on played they.
I wish they were more self-critical.