i could smell the carnage of flowers from nearby
at the bus stop that everyone driving by thought was strange
to see someone standing at from the weird looks they gave me
it was carnage i had felt necessary to induce
necessary?
nothing is necessary
the juice had been red like thinned blood
they had looked dead already, but i was no one to decide that
it wasn't a decision, though
--an in advertent act of boredom.

when do we stop growing up and start dying?