It’s a special cream cheese/spread it/taste it/Past Time acts

silently/Invisibly as wind/bends boughs/seen only

through its effects. Extrapolate-

hurt/the heart seethes

Crimea-Kurdistan-The Pashtun Republic

Seethes in silent sufferance/plots/weaves

a net of chill revenge.

   I

I     I

   I

gobble gobble. Mind displaced by hate.

In rude frenzy/ thrashing and scything

at innocent air/reeling in red rage.

The fire burns itself out. Mind returns

to a bed of grey ash. Leaving only one way out

self-murder/the hand turned against the heart.

The blood-rose blooming/on the linoleum.

This is how it happens. A kind of possession

Pushed out/from the seat of consciousness/

and replaced by another. An act/

which achieves itself/and with its completion/

ceases to exist.

Eli, Eli, is gone.