i know that smell
he said
those tweety-bird treats from the ice-cream truck-
with those weird gumball eyes
i haven't thought about those since my little league days.
i always ******.

i was young for my grade and very thin and gangly-
except for that one year, when everyoneelse moved on and

me and that one other kid who was also young for our grade
stayed in the league.
we killed it that year
i'm not proud. but it was our chance to shine

it's amazing how these things can come back to you.

i said yeah

a bit later on my way to the train station, there was a homeless
woman
with oxygen tubes and a wheelchair
she was limp, directly in front of the door to the stairs, eyes
closed
baking in the (late day) sun

i didn't check if she was alive.
i thought about it though

putting the symbol before the sentiment

critter-lung .
critter-lung .
bouncing in the trashday sun
fill me
with.     something

honey-gain
hive-loss

rumbles in the
basement .

meadow mouth

lets the drips roll off
from
       desperation-clenched
       thighs         to
fall
upon each green blade born of these buried bits
of somethinghood


as a fatigue settles across
a languid sort of reward,


damp inside the lawful box

sweeping up my steps like
uncluttering any remnants
of a prisoner’s
prayer

at the adaptive obligation,wild after more

master of virtues no longer called for.
master of virtues not yet called for.

a hero with 1,000 faces
fights a faceless monster
in a field of ruin    and
  beyond observation

caught like a row of
selenium pillars holding up a
prism
earth

encrusted in
skittering moments w/o time

heaving a blade
into
salt-silt flickering slit

([]}        (  •. )         _

Another
Hangs like the
Increasingly average protests of
Virtue in man’s sick pantheon

Just east of
Dawn’s gurgling last breath,
Choking in
The steaming *** load of
God_

Staining white,  these
Vast
Echo chambers of the cyber cathedral


No greater
Panopticon.