Thursday, February 7, 2008


war is planted.
its seed sprouted,
we felt it emerge;
now it germinates.
soon it will be seen,
poking up sickly green
through the soil that covers it.
it will be nourished by each of us,
fertilized by our waste,
fed by our need,
pruned by our restraint and
held up by our numbers;
tended carefully in its growth.
when we regard it as no threat,
then shall it bear fruit,
strange and bulbous,
scarlet and deadly; poison
as has never been known.
it will ripen to a bitter pulp
and crust over, seemingly dead:
but it's casing shall crack
and out shall spill its bitter,
woeful contents upon the earth
and upon us, its savour,
saulting the world to infertility

1 comment:

Bryan said...

This one's dedicated to Liz, since it's her birthday. Happy Apocalypse, Liz! There shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth.