Under his bushy brows

in his deep, dark eyes,

a black fire smouldered

and sparked like burning coal.

He shaved his holy beard,

revealed his bald face.

An unpainted disguise 

to blend him with the crowd.

He slashed and thrust through shirts

and skins of screaming crew,

vomited out Allah’s

name of virtue and faith.

He licked and wiped away 

the hot coppery flavor

of their blood from his face and mouth,

then crashed the jumbo jet.

Now he wails and gnashes his teeth,

his seared flesh sloughing

off in sheets of bleeding meat

from his cracked and dried bones.

Sixty-seven swine whores

trample him with cloven hoof,

gnaw his bright entrails,

and tear at his cock.

-Matt Beeson, © circa 2003