There’s the slain throat of a soldier;
There’s the wild man with a dagger:
Malala lies in her own blood
in Taliban’s land.
...
Super Eagles, once again, can't fly.
Once again our pen will fill the well!
Yet, the pat falls on the broken birds:
O, stuffs that I must trust are failing me!
...
The archangel of love's archenemy
whisks me, a fly, like a rocket tail.
The wheeled spirit rolls me from
you; shares a chilled sea between
...
Today the world has ended;
Hear the Last Trumpet's sound.
How many talents have I gained
To make the cloud rider please?
...
Since those ten ways I have trekked
To forget you
Bowed to your routing face, old
Memories - impetuous mice, have sniffed
...
Sleep is singing in my ears;
Hunched at my rear -
Mozart's million medleys
Are growing unclear;
...
Since this breeze began to blow southwards,
The weighty breaths of these
Beach palms have littered only city-tales. And I am finished
With furry crimes
...
Come, wave your wings over my fire;
Wave them low, for you are cold.
Not one feather withhold;
...
Are you going to be just a radio:
Loads of sound,
Loads of noise;
Loads of nothing at all,
...
There's an empty message in my mailbox.
It bears your name.
It bears your zodiac and other signs.
It bears midnight - the sunshine of buttermade flies.
...