.....

Something curled at my brow
     cannot release my thought
 and my body clacks beneath it
      a dull bell pierced by vapors
 while a church organ automatic
             is pushed across subway rails
    we in the half-dark carry our light
      in the form of so many struggling medals
       the soul of an igloo
memory of a task performed by thousands
and the fleshing out of cheap scenery
           to become greater than the world