Thursday, February 16, 2023


 Space Between 

Low gray prison mattress 

Sky slowly sinking.

It gets claustrophobic

The longer you’re out here. 

Crawlspace January

Reptile wet and gaspy 

Naked trees

Cachectic men

Arms like broken sticks

Pleading for mercy. 

Pretty soon I’m prone 

On the ground

Lopping up the last

Few molecules of oxygen 

I’ve got left and it’s here, just

Before the terminal blackout,

Where I feel it. The truth. 

The trusted earth rushing

Up toward the clouds.

It was the earth all along

Thronging to fill my lungs 

With its dirt.


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