old always and terrible
no longer a wasteland but a waste
ready to be burned and burned away
an irreticient grasp
primordial and celestial interchangably
this is my potential

unlevened bread at any hour
suckling harlot at the devil�s tit -
i am incomparably lame
i am building shrines
i fall short of every leash
i am a crass walking wind-up toy

if i were to birth my child
would come out drowned

but you are as sick as i
and your child is as mine
your potential a kind of cheap thread
spun from mine
you are a speck of the universe and i am a cloud
so it must be, good friend.