look at the men with blood on their hands,
appearing on national television. let us
restart the month, the year, the decade,
the century of failures. open the doors
leading outside, open the floodgates
our modern bodies ill-suited for this flight
let's make flower garlands out of chicken wire
crippled souls nibbled away in isolation, tasting
of insanity or like a horrible joke
reinvent the wheel along the ambulance sirens
this time, the air kills with immediacy