fossil onlooker
(for the Syrian refugees)
fossil onlooker
i come here honestly
knowing we have done this all before
in muddy catfish pools
i want to crawl a little deeper
until i am part of this dish detergent scape
until i am connected with the gods of old
fossil onlooker
being one with the peeling bark of dissected trees
i seek the truth of ticks to elevate a voice
reflecting back across a land i once called home.
Fossil onlooker
shielding the undergrowth
i find a skull complete and safe
from the sewage spewing out overhead
the idea of living inside a brittle intricate structure
sends me running to follow fresh tracks
laced in the oily choked mud
knowing on these river banks
a new moon ago
we were faceless bystanders
filthy in the wreckage
never imagining one day
possibly today
all the commerce
all the energy spent in making us perfect
could end up as toxic waste
fossil onlooker
abstract thought needs no footing or foliage
no future or myth to reveal tar feathered truth
clogging our veins as children google
how to implant tits
the size of tombstones
and what seems to some
the new be all and end all
is breaking out into a rash
and what is now called radical
at best is spray painted by Banksy
into slogans for us to cut up and post
as another alternative cure for the tears
rolling down the face of a thousand refugees
abandoned and discarded in puddles of denial.
