Of Unknown and Mortality
By Todd Coker
Smells like pennies
Or air like ice.
An earthquake
Rips
Through wire-muscle
Tendons and bones
Thoughts, too many thoughts
Voice like a glass shard
A hammer on steel
Streaked lines, straight lines
Shadows behind trees
A body of water, still
Mirrors on the ground
Clouds of coal, tar;
Freight trains in the sky
They return, they return
I am Moses
I am Israel
I am gone