Dialects of Human

In Babylon, the works of men,
Hands crabbing in the dirt,
Raise edifices to the sky.

My Breathing

My breathing,
Fast and shallow
Like the tide
Over coral.

Tropical,
My thoughts,
Dense dreams
Where memory was fever.

Flow

A solitary man; a switch.

…electricity behind walls…
…eyes blessed with vision…

A switch; a chain reaction.

…let there be light…
…all the burning energies…
…our metallic gods…

Here, a modern man
And his good wife, a modern woman,
Take the mystery of switches for granted.

Guid Grun Wastet

Bery yer ain deid,
For, oot o yer ghaist-fite mindin,
Ye trail up, yersel,
Lik some spookit gype.

Memorabilis

iris open and shut  | memory is written | click
an event | captured in time | in tablets of stone
remember | dead of night | when electricity ebbs
who can see | what eyes forget | mind out of time