But, the calm

bring me your battles
your scramble for controls lost
on a child that found
her head, shoulders
knees and toes
all by herself
with your poisons hissing into ears
of gerbils in rats' clothing
and to the thrones of rats, created
in their own image of God

hand me over your filed false teeth
full of every good thing
that comes from above
and give me your disgusting mound
of soulless destitution
your mess of contradiction
so I can scour it
even though my eyes
are programmed to pinpoint the best
in you

send me your blazing arrows
ta(i)led with skins of Broadway
your shows, your nighttime terrors
of empty, winking windows
above trim and tidy gardens

and I'll show you my heavens
suspended all around me
the fury of summer storm
wasting my poison-scorched, rat-infested shoreline
and my world wobbling
on that beautifully spontaneous axis
to sort itself at a better angle
to the sun

and you'll find peace there, somewhere
when the scales fall from your faces
and the bile has burnt out your tongues