Organic

Brittle,
sticklike little billions
camped on the litter
scratching slates, stroking cheeks,
holding each other dear.
Repulsive unity,
but a gift of eyes?
They're thanking all at once.

Hard,
chemical singing
and omnipotent crackling.
A demigod,
(legion)
living rough and wild,
but the sand moves,
piercing.

Surging,
boiling earth from a
satisfied world, resting in walls.
Resting happily
creating and taking,
wild arms consuming myths;
but fallible.

Retching under blows,
curled up, protecting fantasies of soup
(soup on a train?)
Kapo's feet in Bavarian dance
faster, harder;
you know who you are.
Pushed through thin snow
that wells back;
back to claws
scraping winter sun.
The snow melts slowly
though it seemed so cold.
A kick,
last wave of a paw;
ripples.

Full to the horizon,
a constant price.
Arms dancing, for miles under the sun;
life in its guts,
but only desert.
Shining like a deviant,
with a suspicion of vanity.

Bleached calendars, all old,
fields of silly days,
white, scents gone;
just more fossils,
but so worthwhile.
Last dash of cleanliness
nobody saw.

Crunching under bare feet
on a perfect, speckled sphere;
confident eyes
watching their back,
paying homage
(out of habit?).
Two legs
decked with bristling hair,
standing here
alone.