The cafeterias. The power
of twentieth-century lights.
The children eventually leave
well enough alone. In the soil
their descendants wait.
dinosaurs. Unlike standard blue skies night
remains alarming. A clue from far away. An
arc embracing our† thin† rectangles.† In† our†††††††††††††††††† Origins
beginning we belonged
then we wind down.† We† stay† underground
dustcaked. We take our wallet out. Wait at a
corner. Wager the roads† are† bad.† Turn† us
down.††† Make††† good††† livings.†††† No†† more
confusion. We eat† what we† please.† Wheat.††††††††††††††† Modernity
Please.†† We† loosen our† grip.†† Some† clear.
Some†† twitch.†† The†† worse†† off† lack.††† The
greatest† hang† back †and† disinfect.† We fall
asleep under heavy cloth.† The shore† is† on
our way, our† mind† edge.† The† water† cools
blood. The skin thickens. Our bodies darken
as night lengthens. We are
I saw what must have been
a dozen eyes, each surrounded
by its own mouth,
not yet formed but already
clamoring. A bloody loyalty
split in two,
a veining fork,
hungry all the way up
past the neck
to the interior. Someone
is coming back, it says.
Some years pass,
a quiet extended
where notes should be.
Whomever it brings you to,
it will leave you there.
Is it to alleviate the split
trunk that governs you?
It stands so still you can measure
your lengths and borders.