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Brittle Goes the Bone
for Ocean
The animal we are
reserves just rights
to complain -
empty bellies,
encroached territories,
crotch urgencies,
skin withers,
fur falls -
brittle goes the bone,
so small the gathered human corners,
so great the needed mercies.
We must not dishonor
the animal we are.
We fight for blood right,
birth right, some bread,
a place to lie down
with kindred beings.
A patch beside a stream,
a doll house street,
sweat-and-blood won,
proclaims a personal kingdom.
Listen now.
Milky or Muddy Ways
somewhere require stunning loss.
We are falling,
battered lips praising
still.
We have
witnessed,
yes,
cracked
all this.
With a kiss
love in the crush
and crank is
sealed.
poem
by
Warren Falcon
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