What of Love as tall as skyscrapers,
flashing a maw of jagged hills crashing together,
the titanic Teeth of Mercy gnashing the heights
of glass and steel and electricity?
What of Love’s impenetrable scales,
unscalable hide, from which protrude the spikey
spines like spans of border walls, the megalithic
tail felling all in its wrecking-ball path?
What of the breath of Love’s fiery life
blasting out in melting heat
reducing the cityscape to smoke
and flame and twisted glowing ruins?
What of the vast curving Claws of Grace
that rake lines like streets across
our massive battlements and hurl tiny
little ant-people to their ant-deaths below,
each plummeting figure marked by Love’s
gargantuan eyes weeping gargantuan tears,
each bug-person more precious than many birds,
each one resurrected to gigantic life?
What of a New Monster City coming down
out of heaven onto the jacked-up and
junked rubble of the old, new priceless
gem-glass gleaming and new bodies beaming
in place of old, hard crystal skeletons inside
unbreakable translucent skin, unbreakable
except by mutual agreement for beautiful happy
bloodletting: glory-flesh bleeding molten golden
blood, memorial days where we all go Giganto
and smash all the crystal towers again in joyous
recapitulation just to watch them rise again
rewoven by the copious fine-steel silk shooting
from the mouth of gigantic monstrous Love forever?