We go back into the silent country
Where the breathe of sky galactic
Hot sky acquiesces
Wild apples dandled
Birth throes skein wrapped fantastic.
Cry red into the elastic thighs of experience.
A rage of lilacs shamed birdsong into silence.
Vortical gauntlet shakes empires into earthenware
The whistling cipher of time tears every petal throne
Into a banquet of bitcheries.
Cobbled from scree, teeth rattle like warfare,
Men gobble silence, the cavities of humanity,
Rucks of bandits kicked up hell,
Horsemen drawn to war.
Like Xerxes at Abydos.
Snivelling tears for the leathered souls
Culled from the galloping belly of his havoc
Cursed infant empire crumbles
poem by Michael Kurcina