Crying Sirens of the Baying Cities

An artist smashes thick flaking paint the canvas seethes in boardrooms cigar doom winks fat killers with gold rings crack their fingers melting glaciers flood the cities of rome union jacks old glory tears flow down cheeks of countries shaking in war boots marching to screaming huts of the breaking countryside clinging to ropes splintered wooden fences rusting milk cows squeezed dry boarded homes soldiers sleep in spit gods stand in stone drinking winter cathedrals yoked with old women in flowered dresses white pearls and rosaries touching their hearts singing prayers behind eye lids shut windows and locked doors mute crying sirens of the baying cities