Night eyes fixed into my skull
Stare in fascination as black clouds
Roil the darkness overfilled
With evanescent images in toil
To work the caves of memory,
Extract rich nostalgic ores
And jerk the cords releasing
Tears of blood, boulders of regret.
Through this flood, these avalanches
Must I swim to gain the light
Of morning and hot coffee
And the distant thunder of the cataclysms
That shake in seismic shudderings
Resounding with the dying of the Jews and Arabs,
Slow starving of the Africans,
Random brutalities and murders
To create quotidian melodies for the day.