a raw beast slouches towards my native soil
the cradle holding our innocence rocks wrathfully
back and forth in the ruthless wind
the windows are shut the door locked
and still I hear the helpless cries
of whole communities collapsing
and crumbling because there is no center remaining
no mental balance left to connect the old
with the new and one day when the beast arrives
we will stare at each other with bloodshot eyes

and muse
*wir haben das nicht gewusst

Wickedness dances like a Chinese dragon
held high on poles by the grinning

It curls its tail and snakes around the minds
of admirers who see beauty in its gaping jaws

Flaccid and incapable, this billowing beast
intoxicates and seduces the frustrated and resentful

It dances in Kirachi, hoodwinks in Bradford,
and slips into the dark places in distracted minds

— this infernal idea more bilious and mephitic
than a komodo’s bite

It dances wildly in the confused thoughts of lost boys
who haven’t noticed its cunning wink

They sway and rock — utterly taken
far more mistaken — until stilled by the slap of death