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sinepentheA young soldier tossed the nine volumes of The Book of Recurrent Dreams onto the bonfire of Jews, not noticing, in his haste to grab and destroy more, that one of the pages fell out of one of the books and descended, coming to rest like a veil on a child's burnt face:
9:613 -- The dream of the end of the world.
bombs poured down from the sky explod-
ing across trachimbrod in bursts of light
and heat those watching the festivities
hollered ran frantically they jumped into
the bubbling splashing frantically dy-
namic water not after the sack of gold
but to save themselves they stayed under as
long as they could they surfaced to seize
air and look for loved ones my safran
picked up his wife and carried her like
a newlywed into the water which seemed
amid the falling trees and hackling crack-
ling explosions the safest place hundreds
of bodies poured into the brod that river
with my name I embraced them with open
arms come to me come I wanted to save
them all to save everybody from every-
body the bombs rained from the sky and it
was not the explosions or scattering
shrapnel that would be our death not the
heckling cinders not the laughing debris
but all of the bodies bodies flailing and
grabbing hold of one another bodies look-
ing for something to hold on to my safran
lost sight of his wife who was carried
deeper into me by the pull of the bodies
the silent shrieks were carried in bub-
bles to the surface where they popped
PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE
the kicking in zosha's belly became more
and more PLEASE PLEASE the baby re-
fused to die like this PLEASE the bombs
came down cackling smoldering and my
safran was able to break free from the
human mass and float downstream over
the small falls to clearer waters zosha was
pulled down PLEASE and the baby refus-
ing to die like this was pulled up and out
of her body turning the waters around
her red she surfaced like a bubble to the
light to oxygen to life to life WAWAWA-
WAWAWA she cried she was perfectly
healthy and she would have lived except
for the umbilical cord that pulled her back
under toward her mother who was barely
conscious but conscious of the cord and
tried to break it with her hands and then
bite it with her teeth but could not
it would not be broken and she died with
her perfectly healthy nameless baby in her
arms she held it to her chest the crowd
pulled itself into itself long after the
bombing ceased the confused the fright-
ened the desperate mass of babies chil-
dren teenagers adults elderly all pulled
at each other to survive but pulled each
other into me drowning each other killing
each other the bodies began to rise one at
a time until I couldn't be seen through all
of the bodies blue skin open white eyes I
was invisible under them I was the carcass
they were the butterflies white eyes blue
skin this is what we've done we've killed
our own babies to save them
9:613 -- The dream of the end of the world.
bombs poured down from the sky explod-
ing across trachimbrod in bursts of light
and heat those watching the festivities
hollered ran frantically they jumped into
the bubbling splashing frantically dy-
namic water not after the sack of gold
but to save themselves they stayed under as
long as they could they surfaced to seize
air and look for loved ones my safran
picked up his wife and carried her like
a newlywed into the water which seemed
amid the falling trees and hackling crack-
ling explosions the safest place hundreds
of bodies poured into the brod that river
with my name I embraced them with open
arms come to me come I wanted to save
them all to save everybody from every-
body the bombs rained from the sky and it
was not the explosions or scattering
shrapnel that would be our death not the
heckling cinders not the laughing debris
but all of the bodies bodies flailing and
grabbing hold of one another bodies look-
ing for something to hold on to my safran
lost sight of his wife who was carried
deeper into me by the pull of the bodies
the silent shrieks were carried in bub-
bles to the surface where they popped
PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE
the kicking in zosha's belly became more
and more PLEASE PLEASE the baby re-
fused to die like this PLEASE the bombs
came down cackling smoldering and my
safran was able to break free from the
human mass and float downstream over
the small falls to clearer waters zosha was
pulled down PLEASE and the baby refus-
ing to die like this was pulled up and out
of her body turning the waters around
her red she surfaced like a bubble to the
light to oxygen to life to life WAWAWA-
WAWAWA she cried she was perfectly
healthy and she would have lived except
for the umbilical cord that pulled her back
under toward her mother who was barely
conscious but conscious of the cord and
tried to break it with her hands and then
bite it with her teeth but could not
it would not be broken and she died with
her perfectly healthy nameless baby in her
arms she held it to her chest the crowd
pulled itself into itself long after the
bombing ceased the confused the fright-
ened the desperate mass of babies chil-
dren teenagers adults elderly all pulled
at each other to survive but pulled each
other into me drowning each other killing
each other the bodies began to rise one at
a time until I couldn't be seen through all
of the bodies blue skin open white eyes I
was invisible under them I was the carcass
they were the butterflies white eyes blue
skin this is what we've done we've killed
our own babies to save them