We spit the fruits of life
ripe red lumps.
Our blood banks being ripped
to shreds.
Coughing choking from milky white
teeth that were once ours.
Their knees crushing hard
into the feathery parts of our ribcage.
Our muffled cries they harkened
not to, viva continua! Black boots
smash hard onto our groins.
Shepherd dogs in a piggery.
Our sanity runs wild, the popping
sound of a grenade
Screaming through a writer’s belly.
