TOWARD NEW WATER

This way the crowd rushes toward new water

I do but don't want to rush with them.

Here, solo, time runs out. Equally vile,

I hide my sigh. I want to float. Bring me water.

Time brings me time. No water after time.

And if - creations toppled and left for clean-up -

I'm freed, you will watch me with no expectations

walking slowly, hobbling where I soared.

I'll give you my bones to prop up your chin,

my sex to burn in your fireplace, my skull to roll

in your games, my lessons to brace your limbs

as you ache for peace and release from your pain.