I did not know the men from far.
each holding a clear mask as I was
driven down the now common road.
I knew the habits of souls like these.
impairing the land.
blameless in its lushness, these boys,
I learn now,
were hired to consume.
properly; with all items
& inhabitance spawned in desolation,
there are no mistakes made.
there could never be flared tempers,
or indignant stares, whispers of mutiny
or treason.
& a lack of profits are concepts
hoarded by other lands.

their tasks became habits
& tolerance replaces my strength
as an infection settled.

one
stretching my jaw,
piercing my tongue
& erecting fences inside my skull.
I learned to love the sloth
& loathe my confidence.

quickly beauty sets & confusion fades.
the road held nothing as did the scars,
laid down by special souls ages or seconds ago.