Eagles and Pigs
Let the eagles pierce the sky
And the pigs tear the earth
For now our lips remain
sealed
By their thundering batons.
We strive on with the
unspoken
Sureness of unwanted
foetus
Waiting to pop out in nine
months
In nine years, or who
knows,
In nine days or less.
Sleep not dear bleeding
renegades
For the sun surely sets
And the moon finds its
hiding place.
Yes, these arrogant flowers
Will shrivel and wither when
December comes
And the raging wild fires
Will eat up their useless
stalks
Now fresh and green
In preparation for the new
planting season.
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