who the burn marks
nettled and hatched
his shadow label
ecstatic.

and recompense,
a tiny infallible
legion born midday, listen.

youre no oxygen
five hundred of you
stare back at you.

look the conversationalist
has no hair and there
a fraction of yr crevice

lurches forward
because the jesusline
revalated “all is dust”
or alternately action
eradicated the first
of the first

and learned its own
slit eye
hooded with flocks of sparrows
and king ant mimes
your preface or enlarge.