Friday, October 3, 2014

Predestined Bombing Campaign

Eventually the hunger must be fed,
the bowl will be cleaned again,
in the spring the flower dripped venom,
I caught your expression in the drop,
it exploded on Iowa,
our homeless were fed shrapnel,
with tiny bone implant forks,
and the houses that God built,
bent their shadows over the rubble of New York,
floating with a certain neon glow,
as the wind carried all the men away,
and the factories ate the women,
stars festering in the boils,
of the screaming dragon,
condemned to eternal fornication
with the whore of Babylon.

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