What am I for
But to sit and wonder what I am for?
With a mind pulsing and grey to match my eyes,
I am not for much.

I am
you are
insignificant

I am
you are
one in
seven billion and climbing

I am
we are
the inhabitants of
one amongst several
little rotating rocks;

one string
in the twisting shroud of
one galaxy;
one layer amongst the infinite

I am
you are
insignificant
tiny minds
smaller thoughts

decaying with each
propaganda breath
rotting in a bone enclosure

I am
you are
we are
the same
tiny and entitled;
insignificant

The time it takes the clouds to get from here*   Gestures westward
To here    Gestures westward
I've had a million and two thoughts already. Most don't notice it. It takes a special kind of person to see it
The same can be said of many things Walter, don't you think?
My inquisition is met with narrowed eyes
Would you tell me about the hospital deaths?
What? Oh yes. It's in the meds. The doctors killed her
Was she a friend? An acquaintance?
Oh no, no no...
But believe it or not, the culprit is in this very room
Ask Joseph
I scan the coffee shop for the object of Walters ramblings
From behind the counter, Joseph forms a reassuring "OK" symbol and nods
You know I was raised with wolves, back when the clouds were far from where they are now
What where the wolves like?
They told me lots of things, the big bad wolf, he told me..
Walter looks around, but not behind himself
He told me you should leave now. I get so nervous. You're a pretty, pretty girl. It makes me nervous
I smile and shake a firm and calloused hand
My newest friend

your daughter is infected;
writhing as she sleeps in too-thin-skin,
afraid the already permeable peach might catch,
impaled by some night terror
inching out under her eardrums and eyelids.
any other orifice blackened with rot,
and skin crawling with creeping creatures, cutting comfortable
dugouts and sleeping quarters in her heels,
beginning to pull and tear as
one-by-one pests patrolled her leg bones.
cauldron of guts, blood, oil, trouble and toil,
stirred to churn, to gurgle;
Out from up her hip bones the maggots marched,
All her demons expurgated,
Slithering out and flicking forked tails,
Winking kisses with blind eyes

The wind cuts to the bone
and hollows out the marrow.
My body light as air,
I fly just as a sparrow.
But I must be a phoenix,
setting fires in the trees,
and watching as my ashes are blown about the breeze
The sky is grey and thundering,
smothering like a shroud,
until Gods golden hand comes down
and reaches through the clouds.
The light is gentle and placid,
not enough to hurt the eyes,
Michael sings, David strums,
overhead the angels fly

Staring at my cigarette,
Scolding it for not burning
Slower.
And, as if in synchronicity,
She speeds, spiraling, licking the fainted lines
Of the off-white cylinder
With a fiery tongue.

See me run and
Squeeze a little more.
Set on asphyxiation
And then hold me tighter;
your Humerus bending as my Little Ribs expand