poem || Lawrence Upton

The war of Babylon, the victors revise

Christian was the motto of a tank.

To improve in areas of shadow with space.

That is not open architecture.

To construct a language of troubling testimony.

The main question is why writers are vital,

their language the resistance to the main question.

Not only the violence of bombs and war;

the discomfort of her own land

but which attests an obsession with space

and the cities approaching from behind,

now wearing a tight leather bodice,

the tips of the settlements even worse.

Its borders move like mistrust.

The border is the reality of a relationship

with the thin blouse and exit points.

Her hostile vulnerability

to come to terms with bullets.

The whip was held.

Scenes of her body,

its outline destroyed by the road;

apartheid at your doorstep;

war as history as such:

writers complain with soft balm.

Dramatise our flesh.

Here is the pillar

upon itself

in strict alignment.

We left only a whore released,

her cunt moistening further,

such acts spread beyond the land.

And they were each up to paradoxical forms

a company of her arms

the tender inside.

And these are the floor

and its mousetraps

Asphalt spreads out of their houses,

a substance previously experienced

in a single word again;

the ceiling behind her feet;

so he slept with the damage.

Will become impotent

the tank his presence

in many languages

got in the wilderness

and lay.

Pain drooled

to go down into a constant threat of war

forcefully bent

pumps of hard labour

stood up

their forced position behind her

and short skirts a form of the audience

a woman tells us go

this formula is the new shoes

resistance a war in your shoes

disintegrates the tender inside of the grave

bombing buildings

cannot long enough

then walked elegantly over us

that is your doorstep

machineguns

and there was no water source

that poor waiter, the future

part of destruction of the stiff

sealing off language!

for behold we saw roads of the biblical garden

into something else

when he slept with pleasure

undid the front of the days of history

her strict alignment movable

to resolve into lips

olive trees uprooted

that was a stranger in the field

which demands unremitting safety

reigned in strict bondage

silver buckles had got in

the lord the dominant factor

made obeisance to me

hot

taking revenge on sea rollers

which seemed many colours

that which had been dreamed

or a cloudburst

like the need for demolished houses

beneath our visibility

empty

and the pit was a dark line

across each sensitive part

foundations transform the reality of you

to be felt through her body

words to the voices of silent violence

the same can conceal a moving order

one part of the land

which civilians were seeking

shelter

the pathology of vital streets

inverse of a hostile need

a new language has the ground

in which we encountered nothing

but hostile overnight

an empty terrain stretches the dystopia

a dictionary is not truly free

sources it controls

fragments of architecture

the international airport of her vulnerability

beautiful landscapes in between

future in pieces

dwellings in the impossibility

with the world but reflected

words no longer the voices of living

with the streets vital

not hard crack

right we need a forensic laboratory a son and a new language

the name of paradoxical forms

a stranger in the troubling testimony

the son of the crow

more than terror under tirades of history

could feel so luscious

indeed come to be truly free

as the inhabitants live under helicopters

poisonous fire

the image of the pharaoh

most beautiful landscapes departing

(for she died)

the clitoris one runs across

bulldozers

the machine struck me

certain things cannot long remain

a zone in the bedstead

so of her body it occurred to deliver him

to slay him and gently pulling the sons of ghettos

or their forced-up position behind her

and she looked down to Egypt

you fictional competence

return home

hatred is permanently a state

an almost panicky relationship

come in the tenacity of the destruction

inflicted by the river in a tired glance

covenants fishnet stockings she collapsed

in the roads

kitchenware well-lit

one advances into Egypt

an hundred intellectuals from your smell

the command came with their language

the bulldozers rolled over the shoes

go to rub her soul in the discomfort

the ugliness of pain

all the persons departing

moaning into the floor the earth

to make other voices in the bombs

and the land was metal

to break the land of living

humiliation

cunts wet with bullets