Lest we contemplate

the strange humanity

lurking beneath Darth Vader's mask

and know ourselves unknowable

for the small and bitter gods we are

try stacking lists, try

the smell of desire try

the smell of money on money

and wherever it runs out

hope for a happy chair

to sit in like a dummy

carve the insides of the mask

with fervent strides of color

from the beds of bones

let green yellow the air

and the svelte throng care.