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