a fossil moon high as a kite
delusional contraband digging
deep-carved soldiers on fig leaves
we’re not caring for music, here

without saying deceitful words,
faith is talk, cancer is walking
singing carols to a murderous
assembly of war-gods daggering us

haunting ghosts on the wall
victories ever increasing
one more victory like this
and pain shall be breathless

singularities shooting light
condescending stoned nostrils
snorting in memories of other times
until two thousand years of history

implode in drunken haemorrhaging
jazz up the conversation, choose
our tea-cup, chug chug goes the
porcelain in a drop of saxophone.