Mesa, butting against heroic piles of lixiviated grammars,
apocalyptic spoils, here there are only victims, hunter and
prey drained and buried by
the same legislation, whose quill pens the monstrous
myth of bodies surgically opened by septic claws, falling
to the foot of a tree where a woman, pregnant from flight in
an eagle's arms, gives birth
to a dream of a human figure
in the white skin of a radiation suit.
from Edo to
Snowdon, banking over uranium mill's spewing
loot, a Black Eagle,
weaned in the Tree of Life,
clutches an open wound in his chest.