is this the death we want?
the broken hatred –
are these the shot and bleeding
we deserve?
and is this the shit we desire
or is there some other world
hidden beneath the refuse?
which end do we want to
hurtle toward us,
and which alone do we want be
when it comes for us in the end?
whose children’s bones
do we want to walk on
as we wander into the desert
where we came from
to give back our brother’s
blood-soaked inheritance?