the evening sentinel
the morning cartilage
as easy reflections
tons of ruminage
cant, loft, sift
sons, daughters of damage.
left-right, what resides in
the tilt is the residue of
guilt, the absence of mother,
so much kill, the fuel and
the rant of the duel and
the slant and the starch.
II. solidarity i
the solitary craft is the solidarity
of it; the voice of the bard is the
bird in it; the click of the far is
the beckoning, the suit of horror,
the reason that earth chose sky.
II.V solidarity ii
in solidarity with a thousand points of light, with the germs
of steel, with the hobbits that pretend to know how to mate
and game the blasted parrots repeating a tonic line; in solidarity
with the statistical limit of many, many points of night converging
on day, with nasty afterthoughts mingling merry, mingling fairydust.