the wishes of the masses
are a parade down a grey
launch site for cold war grandfathers
they are in your blood
the peace of September pales you
the next engineering disaster or
godsend has your signature smothered
in legal documents
the bomb is a breath as
children ruin the world
watch them line up in a crocodiles mouth
watch them birth the savior
you sleep while sound is pulled from the
quiet of your back