Time opens up for the wildness of imagination;
a whisper from the sinful earth. There is blood,
then, stored on the shelves of
          disgust.

"Go have your goddamn war."

I will build a step into the future.
Incremental motions of the earth
reveal ten thousand hidden things;
the desire to fly to the hinterlands
of the omnivorous universe surges
like ancient armies through broken
          ancient avenues.

"Go have this awful war; bury the dead in an eternal gash

Let the women wail again for the men.

Take your hands off my visions and, yes,
ram them through your stinking machines
so I may lay, too, with the women and
         the dead."