In a high dome the frail life
burns its limbs off to be alone.
An egg in a tub, sending orders
through buried electrodes,
pulsing underlight
through the solitary water.
Body of car doors
drawn to a gummy center.
Blazing diamond eyes
in a  cartoon vortex,
beaming naked cells
into the worldwide
face of the enemy.
Satellites filling with pebbles
and female condoms.
Arrows that gravity returned
splattering bodies of floating paint.
Airways flung to the heart
of dying towns, the sheaths
of sliding missiles decorated
with ghetto graffiti,
an eyeless multitude cheering
to the sound of splintering bone.
Solitudes lost to man' sun in its casing,
histories melted down to hate's coherence,
print manufactured by blood
time's curtain split
by a doctored heel.