inspired by: t.s. eliot’s “The Waste Land”


we eat each other alive
limb by limb
climbing each others’ ribs like ladders
and form a fist around each left lung
swollen purple
and shut

in this desolate waste land
fire brims the edges
of circles in the sand
counted by twos
until one is alone

in that ninth level
the right lungs breathe
in and

outside their nuclear horizons
a sunset fades into a tablecloth of stone-cut grain
that never rises