For all your roads you’ve left
no one real one,
just this scent and broken twig
and heady subjugation.
For all your roads you’ve left
no one real one,
just this scent and broken twig
and heady subjugation.
The lesser god of absence
At this hour
on this street
if you’re looking for enlightenment.
Or does it indeed begin
with monkeys and chimes
and the gas of a million machines?
Footsteps, balance and smoke.
We had a pact, I thought, we two.
You to your bed and I to mine.
The Munduk Accord.
Why then did you make me
slap you down, and crush you
with the butt of my shoe?
Why did you show your face
to my son, and drop us to the law
of the jungle?

None of the minutes match.
When you ought to stay to save me?
One polishes a car.
One cracks an egg.
One sprays ammonia
on a cabinet of glass.
One sweeps.
One wipes.
One mourns.
The man with a saw
will cut
what?