there is no millstone
to push around in the brain-grey
even life’s bad strokes prove useful
their hex weds lesson to reason.
an ironic orgy of nothing
as if luck did not exist
the upswing contains drops of Yin
a little poison for the system
their hex blesses endurance, immunity
strength is the name of the game
those grains pass the cinch in the hourglass
so slowly & fatally the descent brings education
is there enough left for to better steal [our] time?
when you find some one dead
there is a nexus between your mind
thinking, knowing they are alive,
then realizing they are firmly deceased,
there could be no denying it.
that cross-over, that switch
is ferocious in its speed,
but heavier than block lead,
it is a bewilderment.