By I’ve seen the things I’m not supposed
to see
I’ve opened eyes inside my
screen
to view the lovely hawk that flies
unseen
above my office window
in my head
you know
we’re really dead
unknowing
like a punched-up old
mâché
the paper torn
but in death born
anew
this phoenix rises
like the dew
when sunrise
sublimates my pain
again
the coyness of a sage
the mystic’s gaze berates you
with its love of all this pain
you come unglued
it’s true
your heart breaks into two
but it’s the best thing
you could ever do
