*

and the others fussing, burying the sound

they too are waiting      

                                                            c      a          w

the con the cave

that begs an entrance

closes up over

the unsolveable echo

the pitch to capture

*

what abyss our skinny body

& from wonder springs

collecting edges

of selves in laws

(thought skipping rocks)

mind the road

that rounds the banks,

keeps out pebblers

*

put too many coins in gd 

it doesn’t play, and

then, if, still, or even

unplucked from the hook, and hung .

get me down, I’m upside down

trying the will,

riding it:

bones tell too much of life

to skin

*

behind all faces all bone.

saw in one moment an eye open

enough to soften my gaze.  in there, dare

weigh nothing.

*

belief in nothing collecting.

the lateness of hours,

sun in sea setting

light as face.  reflecting,

I counted truth for my life, recanted,

finding a sameness in things.

the body took the blame

for the deeds of the mind.

it was this kind of human