Shad­ow of the effi­gy of a uni­corn probing
burn­ing shades of yolk beside a bro­ken egg
attests the vain­ness of ear­ly demise.

Fail­ure to recoup the wast­ed hours
shoots a black record in the divine court
against the flaw of the creator…

Born in a land glit­ter­ing with relations
with­out bonds and family
the shell of the egg lies in ruins as
the fam­i­ly of rust­ed iron in a truck garage.

Stars and sun as piti­less employees
nev­er care to snuff out their laugh for
they are tied against the thorny walls of hun­dred mounts
where sounds of whip from hell­ish hands
forces them on their duty.

Bro­ken eggs as they are
will be piled in the files of God­ly investigations
to be tossed into the vol­canic mouths
of mind­less, straight-faced serpents.
 

image_pdfimage_print