Morphed to Armenia

David lies wrapped
In fast-melting ice
While mourners avenge
Mohammed and Christ.

Here in the mountains
We fear for our flesh,
We wait for our pain,
Meat, more or less.

The earth is afoot
With armies and chains,
But of what we hunger for
Little remains.

The murderers mangle,
The wounded bulls gore.
We sleep in the shadows
And wake by the shore.