Meat planks set up
in a neat array.
Beaming eyes
that have no focus.
Horizons vast
as these little hands.
Seaward looks
that return to shore
with a different squint.
Weeds over the eyes
of their captives.
Metal and wood
spanking glass.
Showers of sparks
that never land.
Hallways with infinite
supply of more hallways.
Slithering cords hugging
cropped mountain sides
and sifting rain.
Spines crushed through faces
by bulletproof canoes.
Tray after tray with feelings
by compartment served,
and no face responsive
and no body calling
over these vacant tables
where the breezes and lights
die so beautifully down,
and the vats of humming water
don't sign my name.