Enunciations

Enunciations

In the swift days of my life,

the feet of the beast

described by Daniel in his Book,

500 years and they still failed

to set iron and miry clay,

but the sword with which they imposed

the siege had plunged the homeland

into misery. Not much ever happened,

Amen! to business, the beautiful

alliterations of brokerages. 170, 000 beheaded.

Life in the country was commendable,

anyone could carry a flag and brandish stories.

Getting into the economic brutality of kings

and Orthodox Jews took into account

a healthy economy,

at least that’s what the papers said,

so life in the pipe-dream-country

started at 6am with breakfast,

take the kids to school, then keep

your buttocks behind a desk,

behind a wrench, behind a broom,

behind oneself, to honor the hours

that would allow the boss to have

his piña colada anywhere he had a world.

Now the auxiliary realm of greed

broadcasted live

strange numerals 

as if panic could only get tangled

in a soccer ball— what a GOAL…

It made the soccer player’s super-fuck their mothers

in front of an iridescent crowd,

and papa Noah took off a young girl’s panties

he was filming.  He was going to leave good money

in the porn outlets.

Ah, Rebeca Linares’s nostalgic ass

on all fours

stuffing a huge black dick in her butt,

and songs that seemed like the best

sung by the Rolling Stones.

56,000 women torched,

as if they had been welded

to death with argon gas,

but they were walking side by side

with the head honchos of the opium fields

of Afghanistan, the oil fields of Iraq,

the unused and unusual fields of Mars

put in the sky to be reforested.

Those were not days of grief and nostalgia

under radioactive clouds.