to a face we cannot see.
somewhere abrupt. remember me,
in prime of life
one slice was I. two shades the hidden stare;
how many now the roots
feeding brain a voltage through a straw?;
one step stampede
neither race nor gaunt
a hunters prey
sunflower seeds all aching of my joints;
the kick inside
hatching crab-like jaws to safe retreat.
as safe as numbers crowded in a pulse;
public domain
no space alone with scant remains
dead panther all and all and me
roam free to rummage waste below our knees;
what time of day now this?
too many hands now touch and prod their gods
gifting sight a belly-full of chimes,
corduroy blue. tugging on a stem;
we and them
neither now or then,
will cock our eyes due south reluctantly,
in prime of life
to a face we cannot see;