like sacred clowns we fell down
in the cold of yesterday's fingerprints
and laughed at ourselves
have we finished eating those memories
i see you are once again resting
upon your established positions
gone are the rivers and the givers
so forever we will shiver  
while laughing at ourselves
are we finished with these watered down drinks
or do we sink to the bottom of the stream
like watered down drunks
we punched the edges of our seams
and demanded attention from your daughters
control your ambitions
and you may not get slaughtered
or perhaps you will anyway
for no one is safe in this hay pile
like needles we must wrestle with our own edges
and demand that the entrails be read
form is a figment of the imagination
and your eyes have the pigment
that i have always yearned for
please return the urns
that you’ve borrowed from those owls
whose looms are purposefully empty
like rooms without a view
you’ve burned plenty of carpets
and i'm surprised how it still amazes me
when money is shed like fleas from your armpits