the earth was stained
brown and black and
smelled faintly of fire
in the distance, the
mouth of the machine
snarled and shook until
the noise of bending
breaking metal was buried
under the belch of exhaust
and his white skin was
sweaty and swollen by
the sun, curdling milk
sour and broiling under
the hot sky and steel
and shattered glass
of discarded bodies,
where vultures, predators,
pillage carcasses for parts
and he pulls and fights
against failure and grime
and the desert sky and
somewhere, a man yelled
“waddah! anyone, ah-gua!”
and the condensation dripped
with black grease and red
sand and the droplets
seared, refreshingly cold
on his pink-burned body