10/27/2015

the morning darker now,
day's opaquement growing and foreign, a lichen on the stratosphere,
  furry and colonial,
draping the blue in a gray wolf fur color moss—
I used to think this was a metaphor for living,    
    and it stayed consistent,
the mold ***** into my ears  and eyes
  I remembered reading once
  in ancient Egypt a hook used through the nose was to extract the brain

    my cerebellum quells and throbs
Its own moldy dogged lobotomy.