This Wallow Pad of the Ground
Is my Nesting Place
For the Riddle of my Fault Lines
My Skin is Held
Rag Drum to my  Hacked up Face
This New-new me  is
The Result of a Peculiarity
Events Resulting in Butchery

My Time Remains Expanding
A Warm Spool
A New Slumberless Spill of Years
All this Time
To Study this Horizon of Footfalls
Or
Instead
To Retreat to my Summary Report
That is Now the Retread of my Drying Mind.