Under the rib cage,  

Nomads scramble

From the steady downpour

Of gas and grenades

Of secreted anger

–

The right and left femurs

Sheild the new bonfires

Where rebellion dances

To an outlawed rhythm

–

The spinal column lies shattered

Enclosing the young

Lying dazed by the struggle

That rings in their ears

–

The web of fissures in the skull

Grows wider each day,

As bands of wild-eyed thieves

Feed their silver-lined pockets