Hairs plucked to ease the wounded laser
light freak show of chocolate cephalapods
cruising with shotgun force, mainframe
severed from the metallic heap and left
to rust in the hills.
This is our conception of war,
something dense like a struggle, and smacking
saliva across the lips whose arid structure
bleats a harmony through the womb,
doused in listerine, splinters frail muttering
spares Greece the minotaur, erects
a rigid torso between tremulous legs.