into a conversation to which I was only collateral damage,
weapons were drawn.
(Ghosts of mother figures at 10 paces!)
or guilt- ridden wins.
Ancient family underpinnings freed from
their moth-balled coffins and running the show, while the speakers merely rumbaed like marionettes
unaware the buttons being pushed
were installed decades before today
and came with a life-time factory warranty.
Witnesses turn away, run away or watch, either with the fascination reserved for the psychological profile of Lizzie Borden
or as if re- living their own drama trauma.
And the band plays on and on….
I guess our ancestors are never really gone.