47



The asylum rescinds the naked law.

Given that we've woken to the surprise,

of these hospital walls, these glazed brick walls,

these residents and orderlies, all eyes,

hairs, teeth, and hands that grab handles all day.

Given our sorrow at this arrival,

given the initiatives underway,

shouldn't we exercise our proviso?

Shouldn't we shudder in this breach of lies?

Climb these burnished tiles into the warm maw?

Into our own teeth, hair, and darting eyes.

Aren't we beholden to one jest cause?

Don't you smell the fumes of our mores

on fire at the apothecary?



first published in the anthology Devouring the Green (Jaded Ibis, 2015)