Fair faces of fallen foe
Stare, stationary, stealth in shadow.
Bare breasts and backs, briskly broken
On openings ornate with oaken oracles.
Land lucidly beside lives that linger
Atop anatomically abominable ancestry.
Great, ghastly gestures, grained with grief
Push positive people purposefully past
Their tired, tied tongues, twisted thrice.
Choking, crying, calling out, "Catastrophe!"
Kings of killing kicked by kindred kangaroos.
Chicago-born citizen of the globe, rich in the things that really matter. Let's get weird.