and a man was travelling
though in no particular direction
glancing upon what he could
through two small panes of glass which
bled of thick, oozing ink
staining sunburnt cheeks
furling with a huff
as two unblinking crescent moons
sat watching in
the folds of a charcoal-powdered
navy sky
and it was the flesh of that man
the face had so firmly inscribed itself
into stone which his
foot turned over and back again
lanky arms grope for the stars
tongue leapt between gnashing teeth
rotted with dust
and once water had rolled off
that moment agog with wonder
at the spewing, blazing
gibbering wings which no longer took
flight
until his palms were boiling
above his head molten rock
and until his eyes had
fallen out from swollen sockets
from loss of air
heads sprouting from other heads
along with their limbs
struck flat to no use
after his trip too far
but still that man is travelling
though in no particular direction
looking to find
a better mind
