Angora; or, The Plague

Written by: Paul Sylvester

Amir of my covenant; Mohammad
Awaken and find yourself still in two.
Pigeon’s high spirit flapping
As daylight rains through
Dream clouds burst and,
Ringing, draw true
The sheep are raised and set to follow
Like a fat candle mold
Shepard Prince howls as purple blood splatters
Processed by you and your Dachau 
Skyscraping trees are sprayed and patterned
The emptied streets are waiting
Cold and hungry from the black. Swollen  
Evisceratus. 
Drain from me the very life left in death.
Set sail into neatness, like sea-foam spray.
Running from where I became
Lit like a flashgun, real game turn
Naught but a puppet; a real boy.