Unnamed

Crouching in a forward trench,

abandoned by the future,

estranged from the past,

small transistor radio

held to one ear:

from a plastic grille,

a magnet moves a cone,

reproducing cries

of tortured steel and bronze,

summoned by a man

who owns his universe

from synapse down to fingertip,

harmonic, standing wave, sustain,

through circuitry, overdriven valve,

a call from Africa to Delta fields,

stuttered consonant, bent to vocal accusation,

hurled towards the gods in psychic scream,

common syntax, beamed across the curvature

from one abandoned brother to the next.