their death worthwhile,
whereas his light and oxygen were dead and forgotten.
He wanted to speak to buildings
he offered to converse with some benign God
staring at him through the rumble of
can’t remember his childhood
only scaffolding could hold him up
he dripped sweat and feared the conquistadors of death.
He would disintegrate into a dust.
sacrifice in a hot country
ripped from his chest and shown on a screen.
his throat was constricted
at a cheap mass produced desk.
He had been invaded by a majestic warm light
he was just a bricked up man in a suit,
his body felt like a memory.
He sat in
a corner offering the invisible God of indifference
trinkets and baubles.