a century of universal decay

in cyclotrons nuclei are split

souls are split, sounds are split insanely

while behind a quiet fence on a bench in someone's garden

doom weighs a century of separation

and her eyes are ancient and her palms are taut with nerves

it comes oozing

out of flowers at night

it comes out of the rain

if a snake looks skyward

it comes out of chairs and tables

if you don't point at them and say their names

it comes into your mouth while you sleep

pressing like a washcloth

beware, beware

nearby and cynical, death brandishes a hasty spade

here whispers are worse than curses, offer no consolation

how long the bureaucrats babbled on like crows about universal good...



if you meet a cross eyed person

you must plunge into the grass, alongside the chilly ants

fish through the green fingernails and come up with the four leaf clover

or your blood with congeal like cold gravy

if you run across a horseshoe, passerby, stop, take your hands out of your

pockets

and count the nails as you count your children or your money

otherwise a sand flea will crawl in your ear and fly into your brain

and the only wall you'll keep from going mad, is to be hit with a hammer

every hour

if a hunchback is in the elevator with you

don't turn away... don't turn away

immediately touch his hump

for a child will be born from his back tomorrow

and if he promptly bites the baby's nails off

so it won't become a thief that child will be holy

and you, simple bird that you are, may go on flying

whan you knock on wood

and you go

you knock on the cross