we thought of angels

choking on halos

of their own accord

us puny ants follow suit

         our angels choke themselves

         and we choke each other

the skies shouldn't teach them pain

but to have a little shame

for wounds can be returned

our asphyxiated leadership

has no place in the land anymore

the sacred defiled, the holy forlorn

ophanim, my love

boundless and black

eyeballs of flame and knowhow.

craving, violence.

craving, vengeance.

craving.

children and mothers

cower from cacophony

as husbands’ heads roll

the door creaks, wheezing,

splintering, until it

breaks.

and we think to ourselves

         we hope our mothers

         die first.