Lethal

The flints of war

are flung on restless currents

inside caves wrung with the winged blind

and barely nights that choke the ice-breathe.

upon spit flares and splitting claws

thrash innards like swelling pulp

hung devoured head numb

detaching pieces of bone trash

that once coaxed mighty shields

made puny like shattered slate

hurled upon the stagnant shameless fly tip

of the nameless and unmourned

sharing their sacrifice with the

pointlessness of forgotten memory. .

Why distort the untamed expectation to

the rotting churn before the grief can

stalk the beaten swollen corpse

out of its human stars

and its night spectacles free of night vision

that flows simply through

the wonder glinting trillions

still unmolested by that lethal grate?

Why drain the spew of hope

as man lies without the comfort of beginning

to break the seal by ink

only to burn its books where wisdom is ?

Why do we ignore the regiments dug-in

in their permanent trenches

beneath our hollow that will collapse

our crave for roads and malls

above our fallen but beneath our sink ?

Aren't we the caving-in of heads by the rifle butts

people of time ?

How do the wasted heroes of animation fiction

anticipate the reckless

plunge into more for less

and less into a beyond

that counts ?