11.30 PM & all is silent. One bright light over my desk in an otherwise darkened room. Over the hills & far away a small group of men & women - calm, omniscient, determined - plan the next phase of the destruction of the world...
GREATER LOVE
Maybe it’s what we do the best;
God knows, we’ve had the practise,
pinpointing the targets then demolishing the rest.
Brothers in arms, entente, bund or axis,
we’ll usurp the role of wind and water
and efface the world in seconds.
But what drives us hungry to the slaughter?
Look to the prophets. Revelations reckons
the millennium for the schism.
Our imperative, God’s engine: it’s divinity
leads us to the edge. We embrace the cataclysm
laughing. Angel dust, blood of Mohammed – all infinity
at the end. Crusade or jihad, genocide
or a few dumb peasants wasted in the rain,
it’s dignity, nobility – indeed, love sanctified –
that draws us to the bloodfeast once again.
And there’s no greater love than the gift
of flesh and spirit. Jubilant, we oxidise the rivers,
turn the sand to glass. Cast the earth adrift!
We so love the world we’ll take it with us.
Then again, from the recent past...
DIE MAUER IST RUNTER
The wall is down. Incredulous
we contemplate, through raw gateways,
dawn in the West. You, the baker,
me, the busdriver, there the student
carrying a flag, there the woman
who cannot forget or forgive;
we move through rubble,
through the searchlights,
through the watercannon's crazy rain.
This is the real dance;
we stitch its paces
over the Kaiser's cobbles,
in between the Weimar tramlines,
through Hitler's broken archways, empty squares,
up and down the grim lattices
of Russian tanktracks.
Laughing, we invade the territory
inside each other's arms.
11:49:15 PM 
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