Acts of Man - Anopheli

the stain of mans ambition

in the excrement of trenches

in the stench of entrails

in the trembling hands

of frightened pawns with guns

frigid in their urine fortune

of graves already dug

where wounds would cease to fester

and life clung to corpses

this irrepressible

pointless triumph

in the wreak of gangrene

in the bogs of sepsis

life sought refuge

amongst the bodies dead

why is the engine of you

comprised of toiling innocence

wrung for the oils in your

lamps, to grease your bayonets?

flesh for fresh munitions

the trade seems ever in your favour

the mauve bruise limbs offer

under sodden woollen sleeves

I can see the flutter cadence

animate life amongst pinguid ribs

the yearn from chasmal sleep

steeped in slurry pall

you hope to preserve

the tallow of you

irrational lines

demarcating

that which is worthy of living

that which is worthy of nothing

the chronology

is never sacred

the vagrant drag

is ever close

It will come

for your chalice empty

for the altar piece

asking of you for everything

(Recipient)Your proboscis seeks nectar

purulent leak of ages

the red of rust on shackles

in the bowels of sinless men

on the trail of tears

in the soiled blankets

you will find uncountable

marks of the guilty

you cannot possibly know

the dark that resides in man

I promise you, I can

appoint blame with accuracy

the wrongs of antiquity

it is apology you seek

The twine of binding atrocities?

The nod to our failings?

pantheon of excuses

patsy for the errant cough

we teach the young to splutter

to choke on our choices

you will open chests

amongst organs the fat

will cling and reminisce

every stolen meal

It will fondly court

and savour each flavour

and smile without guilt

at the mouth it took it from