The angry rising heat
Separating its weight
From the naked, violated earth
Screaming profanities at the half sickle of a faded communist moon.
The numerous wheels
Shouting and shuttling between lives
The human and the half-beast.
Smells burn
Wipe their ash streaked limbs across expectant, hungry faces.
Sometimes when the metro hurtles over the pregnant waters
A deep desire arises for an unexpected halt
And the shrill sound of open gates and alarms
So as the muddy purity can swallow some more detritus
Add some more relieved carcasses to its womb.
Amen.
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