Cubism

sat holding hands

one holding mine

and mine another's

as if there was

a daisy-chain

Catherine wheel

in the silence

of expanding spaces

read horrid news

of horrid ways

the aliens

who steal the young

and give them guns

to use against us

who raised them up

now to shoot us down

went wading in

to wading pools

where children play

and played a game

of catch the boy

who caught the girl

and kissed him

on beautiful lips

fell quick upon

with quicker pace

through frame on frame

the running man

who tried to run

away from me

but he would be

forever mine all mine

knew knowing men

who knowing wrote

of one man's wit

to wit he wrote

manifestos

convincing men

of lesser wit

that they were supermen

slept through those years

that through us led

to so much loss

that when I woke

all known was gone

to dogs in war

their jaws jawing

on the bones of yore

caught fading sight

in fading light

of battlefields

where many laid

there down and died

in a gambit

to win a war

now unwinnable

ate ready meals

already to eat

from paper plates

in soup kitchens

that serve the poor

who paper walls

in dining rooms

of the rich men served

rode rolling stock

through rolling fields

of fog that held

the frozen air

that held the breath

the farmer breathed

before he drove

cattle to the cars