Tony Chiado

Cold hardscapes that puddle rains,
Thunderous machines we daren’t tame.
Outside crashes in.

Novel firsts then hellish norms,
Shame on us who ne’er brave storms.
Inside rushes out.

Grotesque statues ‘dorn the streets,
Halls of staff those most gilded feats.
Outside rushes in.

Spending days down at the lake,
Evading thoughts we ne’er spake.
Inside rushes out.

There and here both far and near,
Outside crashes in;
Inside rushes out.
The violence of collision,
The silence of such distance.