Archeology is far
from the reach of my branching intellects but I know
how we created these
marching molecules, this mob of liquid, this
continent of
water. I know that its creation followed
the logic of addition.
A lone drop of greed
was longing for fellowship with a scorching hope
when I volunteered a
drop of lie, you followed suit and dropped leeching
impoverishment with
generousity, the way he contributed the supersonic semen
of rape. By this, a
drop grew into a trickling river, a flood that extorts
homes from owners
just as insurrection that snatches authority from
Governments, they
philanthroped by giving that, and it raced round the globe
like Firefox. We
dropped dreaded discrimination and all matured into
a sour sea of anger,
into raw war, world’s whore.
Now, let’s do the BODMAS of our ruins
without syntax errors.
= we are the alluvia
of our misdeeds,
washed ashore by them
and lying prone as ashamed statues,
noon sun is a
scorching sincerity to our sights, and the fluorescence
of the night moon
haunts us. Even stars, the fluorescent-fishes
of heaven’s ocean
denude our shame.
No comments:
Post a Comment