Censorship

“Only dead fish swim with the sea”

News from Baghdad never made
it to deadline. Spiked and eroded
by the mold of accidental bacteria
risk blew into nostrils as Lilith disrobed
to make Adam out of frail rope.
Why do we poison critters, camels
and humanoids with dust contributed
by the failed dinosaurs of the Dakotas?

1.
He died yesterday. War died.

I fell upon my sword committed one last atrocity.
He died. He made it to Baghdad again.
He tormented the righteous. He rose.
Honor broke down in the beaten streets.
No one knew how it all would end
when Allah murdered by chance
ran up the hill without shining sword
or scabbard to nullify the infidels.
Nothing stops the bullets when
Yahweh fails to name the righteous
after the blind that come to blood
absent brittle shells encrusted
with the eye and claw of falcons.

2.
On the unbreakable ship, sails furl
in every godly direction. I hold iron mast
and the staff of the wood bends easy
scudded with the gale of winds blown
backward from faith to indelible war.
When we look at the ocean
as it clings to heaven, can we
reach where nothing exists?
Are we a more refined collection
of pearls, rubies and scales
of death no one influenced
to follow as precise category?

Yesterday, I heard the thin light
from under her bedroom door gasp
at the lines chosen for her flight.
When you examine the horizon,
as they beat their habits, we wait
for the suppression of one deft touch
on the instep where Achilles suffered.

No one expected the hero to live longer.
One solution set spread over ten
blackboards failed to assure
that we made progress.

What an awful word. One can
hear in matter and anti’s self
We scribble our release;
we walk the plank we drown.

3.
When I returned, shall
I live an infinite life or one
blocked by unspeakable salvation?

Nothing satisfies but endless waste
drunk on relief and pride until liars
drawn from banks of speakers slowly
fall at the art of myth and ordinary lies.

When I fuck, she's taken hard.
Air leaves final lungs when I
break that bond between survival
and that last surge when orgasm
floated over the end of profound
credits complete with translations.