Outside it was raining clichés.
Inside there were cats and dogs leaving to gather more drones.
Inside the walls the mice crept. Silently.
Below the floorboards the dead slept, disremembered and dismembered.
Above the ceiling, the clearing with sitar and knives and altar sat empty, single blue bulb shone above.
Inside the halls, dreck gathered dust.
Inside where there were more phones shut off for fear of unanswerable calls.
Outside we danced for four days. The shit had hit us hard like a cartoon circus train and we laughed over the rhythmic poundings of clownskulls on drone bones.