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Comments about Richard Fleming
Mobile phones are ringing
in the pockets of dead men,
in the handbags of women, suddenly
Orderly European children lie
in disorderly heaps
like dolls, discarded
once the arms and legs come off.
broken like festive crackers,
exude smoke, the stench of death.
One by one, the spectral horsemen come.
The wounded air is rank
with splintered dreams, with outrage,
aborted futures, crosswords
In the unnatural silence
dust settles in ringing halls
while elsewhere, the world ...