Dirt to Dirt

In the mean bag of your eyes,
in the tragic dent of your human
ears: the small sounds and lights
scatter ash in similes of sand,
how tiny are the explosions
in such strategies as days!
A pinpoint of diamond light
to find our wedded fingers
wrapped around an army
of enemy and kin,
the entire damned breed.
A production of paintings
truly on the head of a pin
amid cloaks of tar emit
a steady shower of moisture
and dust, a batch of mud
cakes and mystery. Peri-
winkles of time
in the lyrical ethos of myco-
bacterium that rescues
literature one last time
as it floats and flirts
in the four o'clock sun.
Between skin and salvation,
the universe erupts
again and again
on as much as a breath as a gust.