Cry, life

Palatine and Gilgamesh with resected demarcations,

 spent their lives in absolution

Of an oven-roasted naked.

Seek the things which are abreast,

Which coalesce in the dry season,

Seek the gathering, not the song

Alight with lying feelings.

Lamentations has it right

Flashlight for cellar door

Packing all your pocket’sies

With nails, dirt and lore.

We’ve seen the things

Tasted them

To us it may be fine

But for the likes of you

Tread lightly on the knife

Or else in accidentalness’

Your soul from spirit wrent,

Spirit from the spine.

Spine becomes the gimp.