Sequitur

He wakes with wars
(Acrid metal in his nostrils, back of his throat)
Outside his door
(At the place he dreams of, prairie winds seep in)
Within his heart
(Wounded, just begun to heal)
All the Asias risen
(Africa in tears)
Heathens chant
(We are the infidels)
Young women sigh
(Like the animal inside)
In his ear, ask for
(We assume so much of each other)
Everything, undeclared
(And the request makes it inevitable)
All resources requisite
(Soil beneath your feet, the air)
No one believes
(Mesquite woodsmoke circles sacred spaces)
The reason he invades
(Enter now from all directions)
Is neither passion
(Far off a coyote calls)
Nor rich dark oils, but
(Our planet burning)
To prove himself alive