Absence of Grief

Wandering like ants off the trail
Staying close to ledges and edges and cracks
With dramas growing in vacuum
Drawn to flame and light and sugar
We find ways to increase the pressure

The we is in English
But could very well be trabajando or oui
Because we push back so hard
And when we say we
We mean great tragedy and a stranger walking into town and the stories
of fortune
And, it
We mean, it

There is no reason to question
In the absence of grief
Why we do anything at all

It is in this carnival
A dusty landing with protrusions
That anything is possible

Except you do not fly
You do not command that which you worship
And you lose everything

In any other story this is coveted as bacon
But here we leave it blank
As an answer As an option As a cliff
--
5.15.09

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