Egypt Poem by Max McGovern

The innocent tower
Is broken and burnt down.
Fiery arrows heaved
In hateful fits,
Burst through the walls
Like a flood of emotion
Red hot for sex.
Busting nuts
Has become
Vocationally viable.
Although
Recreationally inadvisable.

Havens isolated and stillborn
burn in the presence of lye.
Nearly finished emancipations
Lag duck like, lamed by the overstatement
Of the century.
Overshadowed and drawn
Not according to scale,
But painted to be pinned down
and tainted, up for sale.
Loss accrues loss
Stumbling infantile and dumb of danger
Into the waiting and wanting hands
Of dreams hungry for actualization.

Other worldly juices of gestation,
You shall see,
Compose what some call
The fountain of youth.
The cure exists unattainable
By in limited capacities known by man.
Spacious arithmetic
Keepsakes
of the woe-begotten
And willfully left behind
Rest deservingly interred
With their masters
conscious of appreciated living.

The land robbed of fertility
Has lost vocational viability,
And now decides it will
Sit alone and masturbate
Until it feels good again.
We can only hope it comes…
Back to its senses.