BODY IS TRUE

BODY IS TRUE

we are that
demiurgic cabal

left alone,
together

under the heavy
expanse of the

empty, eyewateringly
blue sky, jostling

each other aside
to claim our turn to

press our fingers
into the cold, dead

clay, willing it
to be anything,

anything but
meaningless and

inert.

THE CURATOR

THE CURATOR

approximate knowledge

& social unease,

all labeled carefully

& placed amidst other

cultural ephemera,

made worth less now

that they have been

forced into his

demiurgic arrangement.

NEVER IS

NEVER IS

the sky unzips,
blackens as
 
stars scrape,
torn down

by some demiurgic
gravity, we

think.