People Were Yelling But Of Course You Couldn't Help Them

Where gull white steam
And moth black smog
Coalesce in starry bedchamber
West is the landless sea
And east is a seasonless desert never passed
And below,
A gravel path is littered with those who couldn’t walk anymore
A refugee chain trudges off the horizon
Dry your eyes with this steel wool
March off every injury
In the instance of failure you will return to the end of the line
People were yelling, but of course you couldn’t help them