the child, cut in two

not the dying man
but his reasons


his hands
which are grabbing


which are empty and so
what would you
fill them with?


the bones of his children
is an obvious answer
so look past it


reinvent the circle
if you have to


build a better bomb


we have been in this desert
too long now and eating
nothing but the dreams
of the starving


we have been bleeding
for as long as we can
remember but
listen


every day brings us
closer to a darker age


every war is the one
that cannot be lost


this is what we tell the
widows as
we undress them