That desperate mother's tone you adopt
When you've sat too long to
Entertain a vagabond
and your skeptic barring insight
Falls through my stomach like a stone

A mixture of systems in the world
and in our head
was an emulsion dissolving into our fragile stock
and vicious protraction
So nature without violence is a cruel joke
Born of an early hand from a woman

My lonely nights
cut me deeply
How many times
I've forgotten
The warmest feelings on tap
It gives weight
To living a weightless life

Nobody's voice was ever louder for a lesson worth a ****
And parental omnipotence switches off
With the coldest question you've ever known
So behavior loses reinforcement
and the mind loses any sense of direction
Tasked across a massive field of senseless conception

Claustrophilia.
Sun and vista, shade and microcosm.
Raised as a pup on a field in view of the silty wilderness
between towers of eerie still-life
took the dream of being pulled there from some child civilization,
just out of earshot, for granted.
On the breach, still making out the patterns of nature in human skin.