do you remember marbles?
and grains of sand, and pieces of
styrofoam that pop between fingertips?
and plastic shells, from gumball machines,
that turn thumbs and thumbnails raw.
how does a tiny cadaver crack?
and what spills out from the inside-down?
whatever it is, it's a poetry-eater,
and the end of all will
to change the world.
in exchange for happiness
the final selfishness
the marbles expand from
inorganic packaging.

make haste: our will is dying.




bronnie


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