Syringe glitters in the light on extraction. Mercury-like, quicksilver flake, tiny mirrors. Sterile blankets, plain canvas, people here blend in. Gloves the only contradiction, blue drops. They grip after they pop, latex, and face mask. Grown-ups playin' bored games. Light turns red, siren, speaker system. The luminescent needle point dissipates. Shutters on doors, men with M-sixteens. Runners now have tunnel systems like a city. Necropolitan in imagery. The poet is a catalyst. The necessary destruction•reconstruction: individuals, systems, and philosophies. The fierce, unsparing teacher who must break down. That student was completely rebuilt to face the truth. They operate alone. This lesson is one that nobody wants to learn. Poetry is the sword to craft statues.