Locked- 4:47

Locked, 4:47
8th floor

Thud, thud, thud
a chorus of hands slamming against metal
and wire bound glass.

Locked, the doors are locked
they always have been.
But maybe, if enough hands pound,
enough voices
thick and shrill with smoke and desperation
cry out
--Madonna mia, aiudami! 
Oh God, someone help!
Ratevet, ratevet--
the doors will open
and we can stream out
 down nine stories of stairs
and not through the windows.

Thus, thud, thud
bodies trailing flaming skirts crash through glass
to slam the ground.