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Waves of glowin metal
rise like a convoy
to the ripped dark by bellows
of sacrificial sirens

With self-abnegation
of nitwit rabid hounds
they go to root out
shadows in the night

The majestic mushroom-clouds
of the blasts raise
strange towers
lost cores of
faded buildings’ frames.
His pains are nothing before the distruction hate
His voice doesn’t compete against overkillin’ noice

There isn’t human trace
in this apocalypse
There isn’t human face,
Bagdad, singin’ in the raid

There isn’t human face,
Bagdad, singin’ in the raid,
then a car slinks
like the dashin’ insect to the lair
The morrow the shaken Earth
will already have drank
his blood remains.

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