MSG (1st draft)

Two blocks down the street from Madison Square Garden,
and its digital, massive billboards, these huge men,
bald, bearded, or both,
carried billboards of mushroom clouds swallowing the sky.
In the midst of girls in diva sunglasses and blackberrys,
they preached against racial injustice,
and preached of the onset of Ammaggedon,
and Ammeggedon that clenses the world of the disease they called America,
and bring forth a new world, once and for all.
And so that a new world will come,
I think, like maggots from a dead alligator on river side.
And maggots will chew on the alligator,
and expand.
And little beetles will eat the maggots.
And a bigger beetle will eat a little beetle,
and that biggle beetle will find itself in
the beak of a sparrow.
And sparrow will spirit away
from a sharp-shinned hawk.
They will go at this for about a minute,
and the hawk will swat the sparrow onto the treektrunk,
and all that will be left is pieces
that cannot be known for bones.
And that hawk will rest one day on the side of a swamp***.
A crocodile will eat it.
And one day that crocodile will wither, and die on the lake side,
and from, maggots will emerge.
They will chew the rough skin into nonexistence.
They will chew the heart.
They will chew the brain,
and the vains,
and the stomach.
And approaching the corpse,
a little bird, or a hungry frog,
hungry for maggots
that are plump, and juicy.