Suddenly as the riot squad moved in, it was raining exclamation marks,
Nuts, bolts, nails, car-keys. A fount of broken type. And the explosion
Itself - an asterisk on the map. This hyphenated line, a burst of rapid fire
I was trying to complete a sentence in my head but it kept stuttering,
All the alleyways and side streets blocked with stops and colons.
I know this labyrinth so well - Balaclava, Raglan, Inkerman, Odessa Street -
Why cant I escape? Every move is punctuated. Crimea Street. Dead end again.
A Saracen, Kremlin-2 mesh. Makrolon face-shields. Walkie-talkies.
What is My name? Where am I coming from? Where am I going? A fusillade of question-marks.