DARK ENTRAILS

Change vomited dark entrails 

Of the bald vulture on my clan;

We were buried,
One after the other,
In the belly of the village stream, 
And pulled out
Almost immediately 
To choruses that had no place 
When waist dance shared peace 
From the full moon;

We have brayed and prayed
In the names of strange ancestors
Printed in a book of curses, blessings,
And chronicles of their blessed exodus
But we have been sinking
Down the understream 
Among the half dead and the forgotten; 

We reek of bile throws 
From a turn in history 
When our men were led from line
By yellow ants

Thus change has treated 
MY clan this badly.