with heave of cat at hairball-hack
came the temblors
came the tremors
undid generations
pock-marked families
shot in the head tribes of war-torn dogs
at pant in the heat un-watered
so came the temblors to eastings far and near
the blue-helmeted at loose-ends
ambulances drained of essences
hearts descended
like surrendered testicles
like breasts gone to seed
curdling in our hands in our mouths upon our lips
badly-brewed poultices of bitters better left for the cocktails of the dead
the dying
the soon-flying
those whose spirits having landed upon jagged outcrops
give up their final exhale
beg the dry for water-reeds in which to descend, to dissolve
whose souls like corpses come clattering down the mountain’s side,
tumbling end-over-end
like poorly-formed arguments of head-men
at some point will cease the rhythmic electric purring of this cat at-boil
where then shall we be?
The earth shall eat its young
Shall shit not the gizzards
Shall cling clamp claw into the pain, the loss, the innards of its eaten, of its swallowed-whole,
Shall chase them down with redirected rivers coursing through canyons of its own carving
Head-waters, like head-men, certain and careening, certain and declarative, certain and silent, silent in their certains certainties, and turning-away
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