MONTHS OR DAYS OR HOURS

lost year we // sharpened our
mole claws // blundered, blind,
out under // that sometimes sun

sometimes cloud // mostly empty,
always unrepentant // our mouths gone,
whispered off // somewhere else, some

where better // to turn our backs
out, sit & unsit // dreaming of empty
halls as lonely as // Heorot, unmonstered

unfeasted, unsung // unpeopled & battered,
all our solipsistic // voices, unmoored from
any true mouth // screaming, coughing

HERE IS OUR LONG FOREVER //
IT UNMAKES US SO VERY WELL

elbows knocking // shall we dance
away to that always // dimming dusk
what use are tongues // if we cannot taste

what use our tongues // if we shout
as loud without // our teeth still true,
our bite as feral // our hunger grown

sup with us // this break fast on
our own lungs // our own tongues,
sink your jaws // wholly separate

from any face // ‘nto your neighbors
heart, we are // so discrete, our
meal we made // the reservation

we have finally kept.

mit weiss

MIT WEISS

we cannot ache or 

imagine—we craft our

shoes of tin.

even that rude

clatter cannot

satiate our hunger

for din.