Monday, November 18, 2013

the domestic violence

A twisting rain of copper and gold coins
Pays out from the patient nurture of trees,
As we arch our backs in the hot room
Gazing in awe at the leaves

Happy he leaves for the airport
Hoping to have an easy day
Having outsourced his share of the dishes
The wind is only blowing his way

Elsewhere silent air ires to roaring
Forcing people to bow down exposed,
No randomness in these victims
Simply a blitzkrieg imposed

Furious home planet is struggling
With temperatures beyond her control
Cooling water choked by pollution
She sweats it off pole to pole

Look away from this bloody devastation
when filthy bodies litter the land,
it is only the broken bones of nature
As we crush and pulp her hand