If a sky full of jagged teeth mashed
leeches drowning in their dinner,
towering trees without roots,
palaces wrapped in locked doors,
sages howling over squandered wine,
finches who hop in fear of their wings,
mice instructing owls how to wind theirs necks,
apparitions beaten by trembling fingertips,
and every other detestable thing
into clumps of negligible plaque,
Tell me,
what would I complain about then?