the wrist and flick and joust of these boys
building up one lumpen red at a time
walls appear and seem to last
whole cities sometimes
made to plan
the initials in each
looking out over trees that are not there
fire bitten and bronzed with ash
one red faced
the other pale
knows what the other is thinking
when his hand reaches into the satchel
for another
cigarette.
poemation 