Flying over a Million years
of being sad, dying.
The glowing lights below,
the empty streets -
where is my Jericho,
whose walls have fallen
like whores' panties
around ears and ankles?
The doomed silence,
raging with the child's
piercing cry,
is not afraid
to be silent for 10,000,000
more breaths.
And I, I am not either.
screaming at low volumes
