we float on petals of sound waves
and young ties
with the moon
four bloodlines ago
when we could have been brothers
who knows

but me and i'm preoccupied
with watching a fool
flaming red and foaming
at the neck
from glass test tubes
and the ears of
boat guards and prison captains

pretending it's not me out there
or somethin

running for the old position
of soaking further into the cement
and murdering the
sheep-skinned professors
confessing they remember
stiffened guts blushing in footnotes
middle of the manual
talkin about how it's rough business
drifting with all these chemicals