With vigor I sit.
I sit and watch and sit and watch
the cries that spill from
overflowing bedsheets.
I watch knives carve away innocence,
washing it down with acid vinegar.
I watch the tears of those who know
no pain stream into a river
of ice and brick and useless words.
I watch myself, watching all of the
disfigured, dismembered, discovered
human race;
belong to,
holding on to,
the last breath of weak heaves.