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Chasing the carrion, we watched the silver bird explode. We tiptoed
through the barrier of smoke and took a hand, but found it unconnected. We
were dining on the wreckage - white napkins round our necks, we took our
plastic spoons and ate. We ate until we couldn't move, 'til sunset turned
the desert red and startled souls ascended to Oblivion.
A fat man with a guilty face held back and tried to hide his case as
angels chanted, "You can't take it with you..." So we're told, Heaven's
paved with gold-but it HAS to come from somewhere?!
Paradise. It has it's price. We're forced to crawl through needle's
eyes. Our price. Our choice. We rarely make the right one.
HATA BİLDİR
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