Tonight, Rome falls again,

smearing the edge

over immovable muscle.

The greasy molds

counteracting each other.


From their heads, their

fragile ornaments,

sway and sweep, a period, elastic.

Circles of sun, wearily exchanged,

groping for passage,

a blind penance paid.


Always eager, always sleepy.

An imprint fervent on fingers,

like bitter winters

on gentle cracks,

like a noun between two adjectives

makes for itself

an elective crisis.


They live like trees

on suburban streets, unknowing,

as they trip on their halos,

like redeemed snakes,

the birth of conquerors, the

immortal undefeated.


Her laugh, light, wind chime high,

Her skin even, faintly blue,

like tidal irises

with their shifting stances

engulfing each other
for singular color.

Her iridescence stinted,

unwillingly assimilated.


She laughs quietly, waiting faithfully

for the inbred destruction

to bleed itself and evaporate.

A silent specter,

for the injustice of appearance,

as his iron feet hover

and crush entire regions


It was always safer.

(Admit it, sadist,)

You revel in segregation,

(I spit no venom,

only vision.)

misjudging your purpose

in your queasy homeland.

Oh, well,

tonight, Rome falls again.