***

Here

A night

And a corpse

And a language betrayed

If it were not

For this pipe

I'd have nothing

Smoke

Conjures seascapes 

And lover's words

Every language betrays

If it were not

For this wound

I'd feel nothing

Home

A bomb shelter?

A suitcase?

Every body decays

Hope's a run 

Against time

Nightmare-driven

Ruins

A home 

Out of rubble

Scorched flesh rescued from hell

Solely to go

Through the flames

Of new fires

Song

Inscribed on dust

Made from dirt

Half-dead and half living, you tell

The pain of truth

Too stark to make

For hero's tales, by God