just to see several faces above a sidewalk--
many will try to beat you
with a mop, with a drying rack,
with a serving spoon--them through
the years writ of their menace-love
move--you stunned in shoes of air
on uncracked concrete--nobody
will ever speak again, let's hope
your tongue in a glass moving

their smiles firmly on the map
your grin floating elsewhere's hallwayed
nobodybody--hurt or speak, stuck unspeaking
the branches above are below, hedge-thorns
on all sides scraping at tunnels
fresh created a realm where
nothing you put into your form
will work upon it, breathtank strangers
visa-versa--as each ice cube holds a tadpole