and now back to our regularly scheduled war

 

spiders in my head crawl
about looking for flies
of thought to devour

a bag of chips and an
ice cold bottle of cream
soda to wash down
the crazy

the Eiffel tower, the Great
Wall of China, and the
pyramids of Gaza shake
with rancor

sacred cows shit on the
floor of the N.Y. stock
exchange

the heart of the Bronte
sisters swim with snakes
of contrition and vernaral
disease

no one knows how few steps
steps are left on this road

falling bombs perform the
cancan,
floors of buildings rend
with manic
pleasure

millions, billions of eyes
grow dark in the garden
of the dead

inter arma, silent
Leges

the children sleep
forever,
silence is as heavy
as shovelfuls of
earth

and God and I are
no longer on
speaking
terms