golem
in the sandstorm our metal tempers
while the flesh decides and steels
itself for rage
come, precision-guided sunsets
majesty of clouds
red underneath
come, collateral angels
patriots sheathed in sulphur
loading their dice
all our training rears us
to tear
cell from cell
in the age-old game:
perfected
our metal is almost alive
animated by the grindings
of the war machine
a golem
following commands
but beyond all control