the last order

two kicks to the chest, up and again
with a cough and a grunt the engine starts
under starched folds of cloth,
bleeding hissing fuel.
blooded morning. sunless, grey.

a song of distant lands shed at dawn
through the clouds of ash, a devilish haze,
over yellowed parchment forests.
countless days, warm into hot -
round the corner, round a thousand edges.

i need you or the general does?
the report is two words: not found.
i need you or the general does.
i need you or.
i need you.
you, broken.
petrified.
numb.
mine.

mounted on the wing's leading edge
far in the soulless sky, lethal trumpets -
poison for the inflamed mind,
black stripes on dead glistening white.
like a tear in the camouflage net:

corrupted hint, a desperate reply -
snakeskin, still warm to the touch
i pick it up, a sickly treasure,
hidden in my inner pocket.

no, general — no trace or print;
the tongue-tied oaks speak of it not.
lost, gone, drowned, deceased;
corroded, deserted, deformed and
rusted like an iron dagger;
weak and silent as dust.

cluster of chestnuts like auburn eyes
roll on the dusted roadside.
step. step. step, in the dirt.
your voice impaled on the thorns
of my barbed wire knots.
closer to you.

no, general — no air of the kind;
no creatures’ eyes upon that alien skin;
tricked, lied, deceived;
serpent, a fox,
accipiter of fluted bone.

do not wither like the summer,
flee from me until the end.
i have no rest, no waiting spirit,
only the miscellany of your fragments.

i let you run, but just this once,
weightless as the wind in fear.
verzeih mir, meine Liebe -
my curse and blackened blessing,
you are my final mission.
my last order.