Doom of life always present within me
calling bridge to bridge
watching the monkeys on the highway
watching the violence eat shapes and space

cauldron of error which persecutes violence
clogging the blood system of root, error
of oblivion, error
and of wakefulness questioned by constant clamor
near dark and asking light

what palpable being takes air
and recycles its colors, eating
and remembers its wearing cycles, eating
and remembers
its fading nature like a tooth
in the everlasting fabric of resistance.