Fever-induced Articulations on Doom

Last night when I was sleeping my last sleep
Under the last roof of my last shelter –
I dreamed my last dream…

I saw the last flower being
burnt on the last pavement
I heard the last note of the last saxophone
being throttled to silence by the last gunshot

I saw two blind children being crushed under
the boot-heels
I heard their last mortal shrieks melting the
thin dark mist

I saw the last beggar being dragged to the gallows
I heard his last moans being gobbled up by
the last halo of the leper moon

I saw the last sons of the last bitches
playing with gunpowder –
their fingers showed their bones
I heard them shouting the last F-word
which crept past the last blue dungeon
of the last train – like a caterpillar

I saw the last gypsy lady reading
the Metamorphosis of Ovid aloud –
her smile faded out into the womb of the tonic-night
The words played around like an endless ring
of smoke and vapour and fume and such other
shit…

I saw the last teenager googling “Armageddon”
for the first time
I heard him whistling all his hopes away – he
whistled sharp and smart but he had no
lover

I saw the last poet writing his first poem
on love, and burning the pages away
I heard the last owl hooting thrice behind his
window pane…

I saw the last lovers parting for the first time
I heard their tears dripping down with the rain
into the last gutters where the last pile of filth
floated away to the silence of the doves’ breasts

I saw the last military tanks waiting, like
Vladimir and Estragon did for Godot,
to boom out for one last time
I heard their metal wheels ravishing
the shapely bosom of the virgin streets –

I saw the streets bleeding with the pain
of the final Resurrection that never happened
I heard them crying for the last piece
of the freedom-cake that the vagabond night
had preserved for them

I saw the last silent procession of men and women –
Like fallen soldiers they had been hoodwinked
by the falsities of faith hope and love
I heard the march of their feet rhyming
with the clamour of the chains of passion
that had bound them to the doom
of eternity

I saw the last holy book being dumped
at the garbage can
as the last litany swirled its way
up to the tired stars and nebulae

I saw the fumes from the burning river
bringing down the last darkness of the last night
I heard funeral sermon of the last old God
who had finally died…

And then – nothing, nothing, nothing…