A Piece of Dust

while earth spins
and
waiting occurs in the flanks of an eyelid

in a newspaper
of everyday people, you
and I

kind of people, the world
spins
its metallic threads
through the brain
uncoiling
entering into this
domain for the
first breath

of eternity in
relative human form
and as this occurs, dew
on the grass
appears, it
is late afternoon, the sun
shrivels beneath the
thick mirage
of heated asphalt, the

stain in the air
leaves a
dark patch
in our lungs, yet

who can see
this without x-ray, and ultraviolet,
inferred, and their cousins
of spectrometer
mirroring effects of
blood-line
gear-operating
purge,
regurgitative stance, they

are invisible
and walk among us

are of the government
and the

intentions they’ve settled
someone bought a piece of dust

and said
it was worth a plot of

longevity, and believed
it

if there
is anything close to

evil

living

inside decision making
they

are

close

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