Posted to Poetry and Politics on 2003-08-25 10:07:00
Parent message is 505886 West and East
Something burrowed deep into history’s tunnel, something ornamental, charged with explosives — it held its baby poison with petrol for a poisonous merchant to sing into sleep.
A childlike East implored, and hollered for help to its invincible grand master, the West. This map has been altered though: the whole universe is on fire, East and West but the ashes gathered and moulded into a single grave.