04-26-2017, 12:30 AM
Luzon,
to establish ethos, a word from the author:
before the bombs fell, Duterte
and blood preceding, like a flood heralds a rainbow, pooled in the southern isles
though not all the work was his, certainly the words were his, and Moses
is as much blamed for the corruptions in Genesis
as the juvenile, demanding Subject
before the bombs fell, Duterte
tried to protect the country he truly loved
and blood preceding, like a flood heralds a rainbow, pooled in northern lands,
lines were broken, the obliteration of the sea, and steel ships broke through
like wells of ink spilling on ancient texts
tried to protect the country he truly loved
as the Devil loves the Host
on one hand, the myth of Heracles, on the other, the myth of Abraham,
both gentlemen being equally old, equally mad
faith in treaties he knew had grown futile, Bellerophon had climbed
the seat he evidently envied,
and so wrestled with the wind, and so stabbed his second son in the back
this island was the first victim, this island received
summer and winter and spring again
without the earth moving, without the seas proceeding into hell
as the Devil loves the Host,
and new Kingdoms arose, Kingdoms beyond his control, Kingdoms that would forget his name
as well as the names of those that brought calamity, yet by the natural order of things
never rise up to replace them, never quite proud enough to be more than the winged horse
the sons of bitches, sons of God
to establish ethos, a word from the author:
before the bombs fell, Duterte
and blood preceding, like a flood heralds a rainbow, pooled in the southern isles
though not all the work was his, certainly the words were his, and Moses
is as much blamed for the corruptions in Genesis
as the juvenile, demanding Subject
before the bombs fell, Duterte
tried to protect the country he truly loved
and blood preceding, like a flood heralds a rainbow, pooled in northern lands,
lines were broken, the obliteration of the sea, and steel ships broke through
like wells of ink spilling on ancient texts
tried to protect the country he truly loved
as the Devil loves the Host
on one hand, the myth of Heracles, on the other, the myth of Abraham,
both gentlemen being equally old, equally mad
faith in treaties he knew had grown futile, Bellerophon had climbed
the seat he evidently envied,
and so wrestled with the wind, and so stabbed his second son in the back
this island was the first victim, this island received
summer and winter and spring again
without the earth moving, without the seas proceeding into hell
as the Devil loves the Host,
and new Kingdoms arose, Kingdoms beyond his control, Kingdoms that would forget his name
as well as the names of those that brought calamity, yet by the natural order of things
never rise up to replace them, never quite proud enough to be more than the winged horse
the sons of bitches, sons of God