Afternoon amidst glass (a poem)

After no specific challenge for January, I am attempting the blitz poem this month. I’m sure my lines are longer than intended for this format—but my first attempt (bearing the awkward title Up out is) felt stilted and unnatural.

It’s Groundhog Day
It’s a cold afternoon
Afternoon I went to the book store
Afternoon I bought some books
Books that were on sale
Books I want to read
Read before I get old
Read while I can
Can is a big word anymore
Can it be said we did enough
Enough to stop the rise
Enough to spoil the tyrant’s surprise
Surprise—we’re going down this time
Surprise—they ignored the signs
Signs of the apocalypse
Signs of the empire’s fall
Fall among the ashes
Fall from precipitous heights
Heights were never our problem
Heights are now different beasts
Beasts spewing fire at velocities unheard
Beasts driven to earth from the skies
Skies now darkened with the falling ash
Skies rendered mute in shades of grey and black
Black stones mark the places we were
Black at the centre of the bruise
Bruise I tried to avoid
Bruise I could not help but take
Take it away from me
Take it away from me please
Please don’t answer when they call
Please—you might not come back at all
All that you’ve done will mean nothing
All you are will mean less
Less to the figureheads occupying the Big House
Less to the serfs doing the heavy lifting
Lifting up the swamp to the heights of the sky
Lifting up the damage without asking why
Why would they help the thieves steal the gold
Why would they want to spite themselves so
So we ask ourselves now and again
So we should
Should there be consequences
Should there be exceptions to the rule
Rule out the rubes crowding at the bar
Rule out the screamer breaking glass
Glass walls will reveal everything
Glass houses will shatter with the revolution

(2 February 2017)