Life, in the cruelty of morning light,
Is a strand of copper blond hair
With auburn roots, asleep on a pillow.
Are you waiting for the snail mail
To bring you the implant
That will explode in your head?
Or will you dedicate your life
To multiplication of garbage that oozed
Into ancestral rivers, lakes and skies?
Will you let blood bubble on the Tigris
Or become a collector of limbs in Grozny,
While I inaugurate a thousand Darfurs?
Will we terrorize freedom in freedom’s name?
Goliath, let us fortify, let us amend,
Or one day David will pelt us with a catapult,
Blood will copiously flow
From our forehead into our eyes,
We will be blinded, unless we already are.
Deep cleansing milk has to be sold by the gallon,
And, of course, Listerine.