:::

 

Gray pole seat

gray pole throne

I must go and donate a community

sit on pins and say DONG

exclusively face gray widow freezing

almost all chug myths

trains change tracks trains change direction

fame moves through the terrain

with sleeves rolled up

even sleep squeals water lilies out of your throat

and breathes on the poles

out and out and out and out

the captured bullet of the neck and neck

gives itself over its cross

measures you its worth

nothing suggests otherwise

a little yellow moss peeled from a twig

speechless Latin mirrors

raises the Star of David of breath

the row of poles listens devoutly

to the sound of silence.