I think

Starry-eyed and covered in shit

we wander around the barnyard

breathing hard

only remembering to ask

why we’re here

once in a while,

 

if ever,

 

or never.

 

I thought it was the fog

through the fog nothing is seen

just wandering

into the barn

wandering

up to the troughs

wandering

 

I thought it was the Moans

reverberating off the homes

in our towns they sound so loud

until I turn the TV down

 

I thought it was the screams

I followed down the street

past the fences,

where women are beat

 

and run over,

their children boiled

instead of playing red rover,

 

and no one says a thing

 

I thought it was because

there’s every reason

not to think

when the only thing that matters

is me

me

me

 

“me” on the breast,

gourging on wet fear,

its curse-spewing

jurassic mouth

rests

only when I am not here

 thinking

 

and “me” is back in control

playing its roles,

pretending it has

everything

it wants in the world

 

I think it’s because

we have no souls.