You can hear it, whining of evil,a scandal to the sky… .This is the righteousness of evil.This is the raucous might of evil, the muscleof evil – the morning-blue, the halcyon innocencewe live by, hounded and harrowed and harriedby the whining sound of a lurking drone.You grow accustomed to itlike it was the iris of your eye.And so, you scavenge your witsfor something more winning to saythan that this is an inching cancer marriedto a second one, growing like a wedded feudof two – and the blighted day, twice-blighted.