Secret Thoughts Of A Bomb

secret thoughts of a bomb
ticking in anticipation,
dealing self death in self indulgent fantasies
speaking breakfast of darkness and delusion

not every poem sparks sprites for a warm fire,
some states of the brain, beget only destruction
yearn to give only pain,
dangerous invitations from dark alleys

a body feeding upon its own flesh,
starvation strung tight to hard vibration,
strumming tunes of lost road marauders
beating hoofs and kicking dusty threats
of rape, theft, murder and viking acts

ticking what dark hearts want,
clicking in cold lonely brain satisfactions
of malevolence, singular malice, insatiable blood lusts
no good night’s dream may cleanse

a war machine designed, crafted and waged
without one irritating mote of compassion
to dissuade the hell bent heat of this dark coast,
or the gnashing ivory grinding puncture
of twitching jaw

enslavement, coercion, confusion, fear,
butter the bread and slam it to the dirty floor,
soothe, hearts' are sore,
break breath, fog tears in insect spray,
give death’s shiver, quiver, quiet,
away