gas masks and buttons
just past the foundry
when the flames were out
we ventured around the locked
always locked building
that challenged entry
won with guile
dark
light-slatted dusty and cobwebbed
here look at this
serge uniforms navy blue
buttons a silver ransom
cut with a knife and borne away
to be strung on string
our mayor’s chains
here look at this
in a deeper sanctum
gas masks
canister spouts
others with pipes to canisters
slung low
and the farting valves
that took laughter to its toxic limits
we left
professor quartermas was coming
trembling was coming
we ran before the bobby saw us
i still steal looks over my shoulder
for the undead in their gas masks
dragging their chains
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