Drop a little bone
in dusty drawer
the dust leap
and electricity leaps
like suffering released
from worries

bones and shakes
such cowardly snakes

fear is cultivated by
you and tended by you
wont you dare to admit
that even to yourself

your fears are less than real
than your pain
all more real inside the tulips
of your head

The branches of your brain
hang low. Why then must
you purge those
apples so?