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Here is a house drawn into smoke
by a wet finger
and the error of a saint
by a bloodied tiger, wondering
as only the blood can wonder

Slipshod forestblossom, a chain of dreamed ideas
sprinted past toxic vats and link into sunlight
holding hands watching all the branches break
the families abandon their best to the bottomless
somebody whose eyes I know
will stay home to pet the cat
while the broadcasters bring them the bomb
through a basement screen

Something cleansed will fall out of the wall
we'll pile on with our sexes
then wake up in its form
on the playground the forefathers built
and never tried
needles of a flown planet
the climax in the med-tent outlasts a battle
diamond fingers together on a candelabra
the void is singing your song, a fortress is groaning

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