Poem: "Friction"
Speeches clearly define
our conspiratorial edge.
Where'st spoken of nerve
and fiber, toes in glue, that
stick with every advance.
Twigs burn in a distant pool--
quiet memory of a scribe gone mad.
The Nobles boast of pure reason,
quoting syllogisms
with every blow
of their fists.
Now! Now it breaks forth from under!
Twitching madly my children flock to
new graves, tingling in ecstatic laughter
under hazed moonlight-
Cranes fly inappropriately low,
Skimming the tops of our campfires.
The Oracles proclaim an old word
and the villages take up arms.
Too weak are the hunted,
strained in a "war of
gravity"
