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
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