sterilization! sterilization! bells and highways
to bombard the airwaves! hail a gold coin taxi cab;
bring home your children’s dad…tell them everything
is bound soon to change. when they ask of the contracts,
draw a hand with a wooden ax; see how far, kids, we’ve
come from this land. this trail leads in circles; this
mind cannot work while the sunset is shading old earth.

last month was a storybook; the kids lost their shoes
and took no time to find their ways home. i felt like an
astronaut—touching down on an abandoned lot, overgrown with
green jello and hurt. i know one day they’ll come stumbling
in, ask for a better friend, and i’ll call out their cards
one by one. my blood is always their base, and until it has
been engraved, i’ll write it wet and red upon this hard war.