Escape

We are escape. We escape. Escaping, Renewed. The gun turrets turn.
Magazines, empty. Laughing at the world. Remorseful, watching, longing.
The gates closing behind, four wheels. Guns blazing harmless pressured air. A symphony played in whistles, silenced. We escape, in silence. Followed. Guns trained. Terror trained. Wheels digging clouds. A tornado blind. We.You. I. We are the Escape.

End of the Year Budget Checks

It looks bleak,
there are many words outlined in red,
there are none in black,
so much so that someone
has chosen to employ a
blue ballpoint pen, though
it has run in several places,
or been accidently smeared;
names are obscured
so too the LLC,
There is another year ahead
and another behind,
Some of us have found cancers hiding,
women leaving,
grades falling,
but the unlucky
ones have just gotten older
and frailer, skeletons
covered in red,
widening sockets
and tired eyes
looking for the black,
hoping even,
to see some blue.