clay reclaimed

sprawled between
the antarctic
and the wrong
side of twenty

no one is mistaken
for a flower

post-
slithered sahara
and pantomimed
progress
dressed in dark

(a donned
disguise)

and I found
the other side
wanting

I found a gleam
deep beneath
discarded skin

the hollow sound
toward everybody
marching

my hollow sound
released
and all
the people
scurrying

incensed senses
worrying

(forgetting)

form begets friction
the heat
to bake this
bred
to build
and break
to culminate in
cessation

an irrefusable
invitation




so who will help me
make this mountain?

humans being