War I

Their names unutterable,
like the veins of fire,
their anger,
unknown even to the licey goatfuckers
from the sands.

corpsefire plumes,
blood pool, sword and fire.
The fallen forest
of bowels in the daylight.
The stench finally let go.

Bringing caskets for everyone,
returning all heads
to the womb where there's no god.

Let them clean the bellies
of our tanks.
The gruelling recoil
of their stupity.