The metaphors swelled with a season of blood;
And restless, they rose with the melt of the snow,
Undoing themselves as the wound was delivered
To gills of the fish—to their slack-jawed surprise.
Yes, metaphor's over; it gushes with mud;
A cauldron of bubbles; a mixture of dough:
An alkaline pasture for flocks that have shivered
Too long with a shepherd who still won't reprise
A cleansing with water.
The sheep come to slaughter.
“The Hungarian government declared a state of emergency in several towns on Tuesday, a day after a reservoir at an alumina production plant burst its banks, unleashing a flood of toxic red sludge that killed at least four people and injured more than 120, government officials said.”
– DAN BILEFSKY and JUDY DEMPSEY, The New York Times, Published: October 5, 2010
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/10/06/world/europe/06hungary.html
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