The government sent shock waves
through the system: tubes on a chain
around the Legion’s neck.
Cancer seemed not to be self-taught,
but was contagious among our children
and light warmers- thick blood was thinned
to prove a point to the FDA
and to cover up the data of the microwave weaponry age
which was made in the amount of time
it took me to write down my protest,
squeezing anthems out of a hurricane.
I blaspheme my heritage even before I wake up
from a dazed and drained sleepwalking.
We are sitting in our lawn chairs,
smoking cigarettes to cover the smell
of morphine drips and drunks and the cataracts
that constricted the brain waves
and made us wither in the noonday sun.
Pain made me thirsty to awaken the old apothecary smells and souls,
the alchemical beings that can sing out and stand us still.
Learning again from silence and begging serenity and clairvoyance,
I match the pitch of the clockmaker,
turned my head to the icicles losing their battles
and sighing with deep and dark resonance.
Catch fire to the tumors of the ages,
these omniscient dangers and religions
grasping bloody hands to our skirts and shorts,
yelling their deliverance fake prophecies
and hunting us down-one dove at a time.
The serpent licks his teeth again and smiles
as the audience rushes to the back of the auditorium.
The services shall begin once the clock strikes his master:
only a matter of time and the mind to awake
until the slave revolts against the his sovereign.