At first I thought I had imagined it

But it was not my imagination

Three short clicks equally spaced

It was the same message

Are revolutions composed

Or are they spontaneous

I spent the afternoon

Watching my aunt showering

I liked her perfumed soap

She asked me the same question

When a country runs out of foreign wars

Does it start civil wars and condone assassinations

Are the most terrible revolutions fought in July

I am in the presidents cell sharing his last meal

Why during these terrible wars can one hear the birds

More people drown during these conflicts than are shot

The signals are slowly fading in time they will have faded

I am now writing with a dry pen on a blank sheet of paper