HEROSTATICS

even when convictions fail

there are always sports 

if not 

there is always failure 

without sports

lamentation

for the squirrel and the sparrow

and the grass and the tree

and the rain

and the night and the day

that all come back

hungry

with no desire to eat

at dawn he walks
his hunger fed to him
long love letters
smuggled out like breath
as if all this mud
was rubbing against the moon
and the body     yes
only remembered 
after the fact
and crime scenes    still
like novelty acts
the whole intensity
of better imaginations
with    even the words
diasporas     pogroms    or boredom
waiting to be used
by someone unemployed
maybe without qualms


see

how the moon

is doing better now

despite you