Pig snouted soldiers strut
like heavy cannons,
over dry wild desert weeds
I tumble behind a boulder
maybe twelve or thirteen
I had not met the cycle yet
of Mother Earth and her Moon
The others slept in the madhouse
where echoes of screams
jumped from wall to wall
I tried to burn all of us down
once, melting us into a boiling
ooze where we could flow
together the right way
but she caught me and
I was sentenced to the garden
living off tomato bugs
and raw onion
This was when there was something
now it is this
desolate; sepia spotted trap.
I closed my eyes behind the giant rock
begging the shadow to suck
me into its safe home
It whispered that I was not ready
that my temples were froze
That’s when I heard their cries
mother and brother being
cooked alive
I opened my eyes and
the pig snouted soldier snatched
the dark hole from my face
I am awake.
