Analysis of Anxieties of Corrupted Times

…and tonight, Mother, I dreamt of winds sweeping the pasture,
quelling my horses,
expelling my deer,
publicly lashing me with a snake,
binding me behind my folk’s tents,
quenching my thirst, when I do, with my blood,
and feeding me defeat.
Tonight, Mother, I saw headless horses
invading my people,
and a woman up on the banner
crying out my name;
naked, drenched with blood,
and clouds galloping over our blood-red lands
raining down on our tribesmen with acid water and venom breath.
Mother, I saw you bereaved
scattering sand
among the dead,
and gathering crumbs of meat.
I saw a crow as big as night,
its cawing surrounding me,
it kept circling the tent, ignoring me,
then snatched my baby
and flew away, leaving me
wallowing in the dark sand,
losing my mind.
I saw lions roaring whispers.
I saw dogs howling at the sun.
I saw rabid wolves.
I saw an army of black ants on the roses.
I saw intoxicated goats.
And tonight, Mother, I dreamt of long tamarisk branches
growing out of the horses’ carcasses,
sprouting into yellow flowers
diffusing a stony scent,
entangling like antlers,
diverging like chronic sorrow,
and were chewed by the night’s molars,
then vomited in the face of the shining dawn,
in the face of these sordid times,
and spat on this generation’s face.
I saw big cities running across the desert’s mirage,
being chased by exhausted fear,
being hunted by a terrifying sickness,
and crushed to pieces by the demon of alienation and vice.

I saw falcons, cameleers and cunning warriors up in the city’s heights,
and I saw the blood of its people
dripping from the talons of an eagle.
I saw a vulture stealing a palace.
I saw a crow eating a tiger.
I saw snakes on the horizon
painting rainbows.
I saw faces on balconies
wearing ghostly masks.
And I saw brains on the streets
absorbing salty toasts.

Mother, is this a nightmare or an illusion?
Or is it something else that’s taking over, or
is this desolate insomnia just a dream?
It’s what I felt while I was awake resting my head
against the outer rope
and touching the grass,
which stung me like needles this grass
grazed… this rope grazed my throat
as it stretched from knot to knot to the center pole.

Mother, I dreamt tonight that my eyes were folded,
the land of my people pillaged,
and the heads of my men mounted on the wall;
but I saw you, Mother, not crying… because tears are crucified
and the center pole is tied up in knots.