A Fight for Life

A dismal sky dawns in the distance,

Fog and smoke spread in every direction.

As suit sound static blasts through the television,

Their words contain less thought.

Rockets and fire forge fury in the hearts of the wounded,

But their wounds – they remain grapefruit trenches

Which hold more shelves of books than an arsenal can hold guns.

Surfs know not why the water is so red,

Only that they can not swim and sink with a strap on their ankle.

The bottom of an ocean,

The oil which rises,

The only use of the body to the lord is to fuel his car.