Ballistic writing, be nice if Israeli bombs grow fat and raze Gaza, cinder Islam and every waking body, the mantis and cloth drapes of each dwelling, ribbons and spirals of dust, watching the skies bludgeon and bleed with aching fever and bruise-swelling terror, the red mask of death on all faces.
Ashen and lifeless bodies charred with hot white-heat, scaffolds dry and bleached, the tent city metropolis, buildings turned to rubble and the bones of rebar protruding, endless trash-avenues of dirt and starving dogs, an arm, a leg, a pair of small feet. Perished horse, broken bottles and knees, a lavish royal palace, poetic nuclear breeze, hit Iran, melting bodies with Arabic and Persian tongues murdered and black, death dancing on the skeletal leaves.