Someday, we will come back

When you walk among your fields
That lay peaceful in the pink sunset
You will remember the blood
And we will be here once more

When the noonday sun
Specks the silent plow with diamonds
You shall think of bayonets
And screams that tore as they fell

When your children run among the grasses
Shining ethereal in the twilight
You shall think of ghosts
And of ghost children that never were

The world has forgotten us
The earth will not forget

In our memory, is our revenge

You are all walled in –
Slabs of cement, oh darling!
Vertical as chunky rectangles
And dropped to the ground – thud
To pound out the shifting aerial dirt.

You prefer the grime that smears
Across your face in soggy soot, dripping,
Piling into corners like vile black curls –
You manufacture your own exhalations
And writhe in them.

A cold air blows through you, sometimes,
Created mostly by traffic.
If it looked for leaves to play with, it gave up.
It hammers perpetually now
Against the cylindrical yellow-orange drums
(that soften crashes against metal guardrails).

Caution! Shout all the ugly things.
Undecaying geometric shapes are yelling
At plummeting mechanized force and motion.
Claustrophobia clatters against your walls and railings
…Oh darling, don't worry! The oppression was efficient-
We're all dead now.