Life is the damage
that accumulates, the bats
hovering in a pizza parlor.

Vacant looks that burst
too early, passing one another.

Screams distant, same screen
broadcasting the smoke of bricks.

Numb in the bank of lights,
the swirling cafeterias.

Riding the propeller blade
to another circuit,
another  darkening chair.

Watching one slim page
turn into multiples,
hoping that death comes topless
to anoint this recovered path.