the process to describe
the contour and substance of air
is now redundant, hence meaningless

(its lack of practicality
determined its void of meaning
and shall now be buried in the earth,
along the direction hinted
by dozens of pointing fingers)

moral or immoral, such a framework
has put a lock on this collapsible
black swallowing hole, and added,
in postscript,

this here is a black hole,
an expression of observable,
diagnosable,
not so much treatable,
sickness which undermines
a certain validity of the carrier

as if, the muscles of the safety net
are torn into bloodied strings of flesh
and in there a voice declares with clarity
that the weak must die.

punches, soft as sticky rice *****
a brain filled with cotton and confectioneries
never could arrange bony hands to get
the recipe right
for a makeshift bottle of glass

before the head clears enough to think,
you rot in the field like fruit