You pierce me with patience
The obsequious stain from letted vein puckers
A brand new blame beneath a crescent sun
Fallen fantasia
Only a squatter after all
Touching strains the febrile strands that bind us

If there were no hurt, no fuss
Life’s luster would dim beneath the moral rust
Bless the un-blooded with civil unrest
Stolid frowns force finance down
To hold up high our fallen hounds
To bury deep in sanctimonious mounds

The beat of broken wings
Brings no more pain than cages
That bind to fly refrain
Nought but a name
And selfhood
And brotherhood
And sisterhood
To salt the sand through sifting hands
Bound at wrist with rubber-band