Poem: In the Flow

 

In the Flow

 

dust feasts on the heat,

revels in a way which the bodies

that it came from could not.

 

it gloms fetal laurels

incused on a penny baked with corrosion

in the flow.

 

it rides gale-stoked carousels,

arcs of torn phantoms

vast as Ezekiel’s Wheel.

 

a dead ocean’s shark tooth

bites into an extinct spine

fractured in stone the same color as

 

beige pink red chocolate drama

has always been because no ice age

ever came here,

 

no glacial scour to mute

the howls of the dead

who rear in serpentine orgy,

 

lording over slithers

of dust and the snakes and

the lines of shifting ants

 

every once in a while.

 

 

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6/13 .. worked title in better

6/12/26 mods all day ... depression making value judgements ... difficult

'in the flow' <--> 'in the ravine'