i.

to turn one cheek, then another
of the dead
it’s necessary
that they take the chin
roughly.  

ii.

I wish I could tell you of a bird
and from there
follow it
to the edge
of a puddle.  

we could turn from them
and loiter.  open a shave shop
and swivel
the slow times
away.

iii.

I wish I could tell you mother
I am not dead.  that I am another’s son.  

     as you would say

he’s disappeared
again
into himself.  

that I’ve been identified
as being my father
all the way through.

iv.

or tell you I was merely guarding
the post
of self
    from which none
are relieved.