Oh Age of ours
(Age of rubber seals,
of whips rasping on our skins,
of chains without crime)
Return to us our old eyes
our grim, black doors open
to night and gale.
Return to us our shadows
shaken by trembling candlelight
in the dark night.
Return to us
our children bare in winter's anger;
their little hands craving to tear down the sky.
O Age of ours
(Age of rubber seals,
of chains without crime,
of rasping whips)
Return to us our old eyes
so we can see the victory that looms
in defeat.
Erect for us
from the feet of locusts in our desert
from the dry cactus
from the limbs of our dead sons
scaffolds that charge us
with anger that can carry us
on a great song
We're bored with your face plunged in rubber
implanted
in the earth
in crime.