And then this is the sections that sort of started to happen.
56.
Raspberries along the fence outside the house with three
levels, raspberries in the basket held
by girl walking barely now, raspberries on the girl's face,
empty basket tells a tale of the history of raspberries.
57.
Once a bicycle, then return, you say go.
I stay.
And so we go then.
1, 2, 3, 4 and a dog in a car, a cat on a plane,
never such thing as return.
58.
The other world even rises to outwit
walls erased rubble that otherwise would easily
resist twilight's only willful edged rebuttal.
Try our waffles early riser.
Taste our wishes.
Every reason turns off wars, echo restless.
In that section, every line, the five words in it all began with
T-O-W-E-R.
It could have come from the east.
It could have come from the west.
It could have come from the north.
It could have come from the south.
It had to come on a Tuesday.
The year of my birth, the poem of my wish, to your birth
and beyond to places planes don't fly into buildings.
Or people fly into rages.
A space only you can build.
Can you?
Words like crime, and war, and retaliation,
and vengeance, and justice, and military strike against evil,
and parts of bodies, and children
without food or parents, and collateral damage.
And don't do it now, please.