| the dignity I’ve actually earned could fit in a pigeon’s eye, holy and not merely so, Jupiter holy, gravity-making holy jerking me around like a horse dragging his cowboy through the mud, no ghoulish cruelty though, no genius, just our cat leering out the window like a French marquise, sprinkling drugs into our drugs like it’s 2009, Jehovah, the aridness of prayer, the aridness of public hygiene, holy too that babies recognize logos at six months, generous to be given detectable villains, bird grass growing up to the pink striped fruit you’ll leave for the squirrels, ya Ali, the part of you that weeps at dead fish in the market, how to extract that, inject it straight into my hippocampus, mine and everyone’s, fix all the unsolvable problems in countries that don’t exist on a map, origami god, boiled fox, how the new translation left out my crimes, and how much better I liked it that way, my carrion crown finally slackening a bit |
David Given Schwarm 
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