BIRDIE
Whore-mother Earth,
Shelter your children.


Here they lie
Piled up and forgiven,
Buried in oblivion,
Flesh off the bones.

Wet mother Earth
Smiles at the people...
Still-bearing

In the slit wings land,
Dead-bearing
By the fathomless graves.

Reduce them to dust,
Take as much as you can.
This crawler-breeding,
Their skins in urban scabs,
Gets..... Gets.... stung everywhere...

Love us -
They'll pity their souls,
Kill us -
Clothe in sores.

It's time for the birds running
To fall into dead silence,
Strangle freedom in your nets,
In the snakes' nest,
Wondering how to reach the sky,
How to rise from ground,
How to live away from death,
In futile endlessness.

Not to entangle
In an alien stark dream,
A linear cobweb
Attached to a doctrine.

In a life's thin squeak,
At the stake of perception,
A rope on my neck,
Singed feather around,
I dream about a day on earth,
But now I'm a bird on my own.