Clumps of Dirt

My A-freek, steeling of calm: steal, stealth
(fowl missionary posits--
positioned satellites, 101 course images:
en route to ward porous cashery, the rendezvous twice tripped,
laden with gold, cramped-crimp fingers: delusional parents)

I forkful mushing meal.
I put on my old brown shoes.
I put out the fire in the stove.
I take the last sip of the coffee.
I move through the rotting door.
I feel clumps of dirt on my cheeks.
I understand the fame in the wind.
I believe in the lack of skill.
I scream into air like a wolf.

Ouched and outed into the howl;
I will forgive their grinding machines.

(a dirty sunrise, moors over bluffs; chastisation
while a widowed daughter buries her lover using rusted shovel:
we are haunted
by what remains
to be archived in the earth)